


No Gods, No Masters

by Skyler



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe, Darkest Timeline, Equalist Asami Sato, F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, Red Lotus Korra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 180,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3721117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyler/pseuds/Skyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mako and his Triple Threat Triad square off against Asami and her Equalists, Bolin plays both sides of the conflict from his seat on the Republic City Council, and Korra, raised by the Red Lotus, wants them all out of the picture. A darkest timeline story prompted by AATKAW's <a href="http://aatkaw.tumblr.com/post/116687783855/avatar-fallen-and-broken-mako-continued-as-a">"Fallen and Broken" art</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And the Winner Is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _One hundred seventy-seven years after the Air Nomad Genocide, twenty years after the death of Avatar Korra_

Election night was always a miserable affair. The radio reported one count, the girl from city hall another, and no one believed them anyway. At least it put him where he loved to be, on a stage, lit by camera flashes, in front of hundreds of people hanging on his every word. Bolin smiled.

“They’re telling us that all the votes are in, sir,” his campaign manager said, still holding the phone. “Counting up now.”

“Fantastic.”

He had no real fear of losing. No other serious candidate ran, and enough money had flowed into the right hands to guarantee a victory. Of course, that was Mako’s department, but he trusted his brother. The whole day was little better than a formality, but it was finally time for the good part. His fire ferret raced across the stage and up his side, latching onto his shoulder and looking keenly out at the crowd.

“You like it too, don’t you, Pabu?” he asked, pacing back and forth behind the hastily erected stage. “All of this. The energy. It doesn’t get better than this.”

Pabu only chewed his tail. The radio repeated the same numbers as earlier, little use when they needed the latest results.

“I wonder if it’d be bad luck to give a victory speech before the victory,” Bolin said, looking down at the note cards for his speech, scribbles and corrections lining the margins. He had not even bothered writing a concession speech, nor had he let his staff work one up. Perhaps that was all the bad luck he needed, he thought.

“Carts and ostrich horses usually work best in their intended order, sir.”

She had a point, even if it meant some mounting impatience. Bolin had hired Zhu Li after her last boss wound up in prison, and she had been worth every yuan a dozen times over. If he wasn’t necessary for photos and speeches, he was sure she could have run the campaign single-handedly, to say nothing of managing the office outside of election season. She drummed her fingers on her desk, waiting for someone at the main office to pick up her call.

“I’m going to go shake some hands, thank the fundraisers. Come find me when we know something more.”

Without waiting for her reply, he walked back to the reception area, where as many people as the police would allow were milling about, listening to radios, exchanging toasts, or simply trying not to get jostled around. Someone noticed him emerge, and their cheers made the others turn their heads. Soon the applause and yelling drowned out the radios, and he had to wait for them to settle down before continuing.

“Your enthusiasm is infectious,” he said, drifting to the podium on the stage. Victory or not, he couldn’t resist a good speech. “But you have to hold a little back, we haven’t won just yet! I hear it’s a tight race.”

Laughter filled the room, and Pabu threw his head back on cue and put his front paws on his stomach, squeaking as he did. “Come on now, my distinguished competition could still surprise us all.”

Boos replaced the laughter. It was so simple to get them going, he thought. “Well, I guess I don’t have to ask how you voted. I can’t tell you all how grateful I am for all the time and energy you’ve volunteered over the past two months. It means the world to me, and I wouldn’t be here without you, a round of applause for our amazing people here tonight!”

If there was one thing his fans liked doing, it was hooting and hollering enough to shake the building and draw curious looks from the passersby outside. His only real concern was that he wouldn’t be able to calm them down enough to keep going. Bolin flashed them a broad, full-faced smile and hopped down off the stage, getting into the thick of it. People scrambled to shake his hand or get a photograph from this angle or that, and for the first time all day Bolin felt at ease moving through the crowd.

“Hey there—hi—thanks for coming out tonight—I hope everyone remembered to vote!”

He found the man he was looking for at the edge of the crowd, quietly nursing a drink and watching the party with sharp gray eyes. Bolin thought his mustache was rather silly, making him resemble a catfish with only the thin black strands hanging on either side of his mouth, but he wore it well enough.

“I’m glad you could make it, Fù,” Bolin said, holding out his hand. He shook it after a moment, taking a sip of his drink as he did to hide a grimace.

“Councilor. Miss Sato sends her congratulations.”

“Well, there’s still the small matter of winning the election, but please thank her for me. Is Asami here, by any chance?”

Fù shook his head. “She had a pressing engagement, but she’s looking forward to seeing you at her demonstration for the council in a few weeks.”

“Sure would like to know exactly what she planned on demonstrating. Not that she ever disappoints, but we have trouble getting things done when we’re all wondering what fantastic thing she’s cooked up now.”

“I guarantee, it’ll take your breath away.” Fù finished his drink. “Looks like your assistant needs your attention, and I have three more of Miss Sato’s candidates to see tonight. Enjoy the evening, Councilor.”

He slipped past the throng of people and out the door, giving Bolin chills as he left. Everything he said, no matter how seemingly benign, managed to sound vaguely threatening. Bolin wondered how deeply he was involved in Asami’s…side business, but Zhu Li’s tapping on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts.

“What is it?” he asked, turning around.

“You won,” she said breathlessly, still off-balance from navigating the crowd. “Landslide.”

“We knew that, have they announced already?”

“It going to hit the radio in a few moments.”

He sprang into action, weaving through the crowd again and picking up Pabu from an empty serving tray on his way to the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen! Everyone! The votes are in! Can whoever is next to a radio turn it all the way up?”

The low din of dozens of conversations gave way to excited murmurs as an announcer’s voice filled the hall. “…with eighty percent of the vote, Councilor Izana remains the Fire Nation representative.”

A smattering of polite applause met the result. One of Asami’s other candidates, funded for her support of the tariffs keeping her home country’s technology from seriously competing with Asami’s Future Industries. Bolin knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

“With a unanimity of votes, Councilor Tenzin remains the Air Nation representative.”

_That_ was no great surprise. Who could win against a former Avatar’s son? Still, Tenzin was a reasonable man, and it was rare that Bolin could not count on his vote, as long as he always voted to maintain the funding for Air Temple Island.

“And with ninety-one percent of the vote, Councilor Bolin remains the Earth Kingdom representative.”

The hall erupted in more cheers, and Bolin hoped their noise permit was still in effect. A visit from Chief Beifong would be a less than ideal way to end the evening. They were clamoring for a speech. Always one to give the people what they wanted, he slipped the note cards from his jacket pocket and placed them on the podium.

“Another win, Pabu,” he said. The fire ferret chittered excitedly on his shoulder. “I sure wish Mako were here for this.”

⁂

“…Councilor Bolin remains the Earth Kingdom representative.”

Mako sat back in his chair, hiking his feet up on his desk as he did. Lin Beifong stood in his office, fuming, fighting the urge to whip a coil from her uniform at the radio. He smirked.

“You were saying, Chief?”

“This isn’t over, Mako.” Her words threatened to devolve into a snarl, but she kept her composure. “Not by a long shot. Those were your people at the docks. Triple Threats.”

He put his hands behind his head, tapping one shoe against the other in the silence that followed. That and the slow spin of the fan overhead was his only response at first, making it an amusing show for the guards behind his desk on either side of him. An earthbender and a waterbender, but they were decent enough protection, and it was only Lin. He had lost count of how many times she had come storming into his office, throwing around threats and accusations as wildly as she threw those metal coils from her wrists.

“My people? This is a simple construction company, not a triad. Anyway, that’s quite a bit to prove,” he said softly, never taking his eyes off her. “You know, you don’t need to cook up some baseless nonsense to come visit me. I’d be happy to see you anytime.”

“Don’t waste your time appealing to my ego,” she spat back. Nonetheless, he could have sworn he saw her face tinge slightly red.

“ _Your_ ego? I’m the one getting personal meetings with the chief of police, if anyone’s being flattered here, it’s me. These little talks are always the highlight of my evening.”

“One of these days, I will get the evidence to point all of this back to you. Let’s see if you’re so flippant then.”

“You have the most adorable little vein in your temple that bulges when you’re mad,” Mako said.

She took a step forward, her hands balling into fists as she did. His guards stood at the ready, watching each small twitch, every movement of her feet.

“Really, it’s cute.” Mako took his feet off the desk and sat forward in his chair. “Anyway. Best of luck gathering this supposed ‘evidence,’ when you have it you may want to show it to my brother, Councilor Bolin. I’m sure he’d be very interested in it. Same time next week, then?”

Lin turned on her heel and stormed down the hall to the building’s entrance. “Wear the trench coat next time you come by,” he called after her. “I like that one.”

The door slammed so hard it rattled the pictures hanging on the walls, and they all burst out laughing. Mako stood up, still chuckling to himself, and left his office, his guards following close behind. It was good to be untouchable; Lin’s fuming was just a bonus.

“You got her really mad that time, boss,” Shen, the earthbender, said.

“I can’t imagine why, I was a perfect gentleman.”

Kija, the waterbender, spoke up. “How come you flirt with her to make her mad, boss? She’s got to be at least three times your age.”

“And?”

They came to a rather innocuous bookcase at the end of a hallway, standing by its lonesome past the accountant’s office. Mako produced a key and brushed a statuette aside to expose the keyhole. With a quick turn the bookcase unlatched from the wall, swinging on its concealed hinge and revealing a small corridor stretching to the rear of the building. Owning a construction company certainly had its perks.

“When did they bring him in?” Mako asked.

“About two hours ago.” Shen closed the bookcase behind them. “We’ve been working him over since he got here.”

“Good thing we sprung for the soundproofing. He must be in a talking mood by now. You used to be Red Monsoon, Kija, any helpful insight?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Fast Foot Feng is from the northern tribe, so he’s into all that spirit mumbo-jumbo, he’s allergic to lychee nuts, and he’s, err…fast on his feet.”

“I think I could’ve figured out that one for myself.”

“Which?”

Mako rolled his eyes. The only nagging thought that kept him up at night was wondering how much faster he could have taken over the triad if everyone in it had brains like Kija.

They came to a plain door made from the same metal as the wall around it with low, pained groans coming from beyond. Mako hung back for a moment and then strode inside, looking impassively at the scene. Fast Foot Feng sat stripped to the waist in a chair in the middle of the small metal room—not that he had much choice, his wrists and ankles being tied to the chair—with bruises covering his upper body. A thin line of blood trickled from the side of his mouth, and his normally slicked-back hair lay disheveled in every direction. One of Mako’s enforcers leaned against the far wall, cracking his knuckles to go another round, but straightened up when they entered.

“Boss.”

“How have you been treating our friend, Hong?” Mako asked, nudging the chair with his foot.

“Oh, I’m like an honored guest,” Feng said, his voice ragged. “Thought I’d be in a building foundation somewhere by now. Why the uncharacteristic hospitality, Mako? I know you didn’t seize the whole triad by sitting anyone down to talk.”

Mako crouched in front of Feng, taking hold of his chin to look him in the eye. “We’re talking because I hope you’ll be more reasonable than the Agni Kais were. You know what happened to them, don’t you?”

“Heard they found them in the river. Parts of them, anyway.”

“Glad you follow the news.”

“So why the special treatment?” he asked, trying to turn his head away. Mako held firm. “You think waterbenders can’t put up as good a fight as they did?”

“I think if the police find any more dead triads they’ll start looking at the only outfit left. So hopefully we can come to an agreement, because I don’t want Beifong breathing down my neck any more than she is now, and you want to stay alive.”

“Really? Because I heard you like her breathing down your neck. Wrong context, maybe.” Sparks danced around Mako’s free hand and coalesced into a small dagger. “Okay, okay! What do you want?”

“I want to buy you out. Everything. The shop protection, the numbers, all of it. Fair prices, of course, something to help you set up shop elsewhere, but you take your guys and leave. Don’t care where you go, as long as I never see you again. Go back to whatever little Northern Water Tribe iceberg you crawled out of, for all I care. Anyone that wants to stay works for me or goes straight. This is my city now.”

He took a thick stack of bills from his jacket, and Feng studied him, skeptical. “And if I don’t?”

“Then we’ll see how fast you are with one foot. Or none, depending on my mood.”

Feng laughed, almost in spite of himself. “Now you’re talking like a triad boss. I guess I’m not in a position to refuse, am I?”

“Not unless you want to get a new nickname. ‘One Foot Feng’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

He paused for a moment, but there was little choice to consider. “Then I humbly accept.”

Mako grinned. “I’m glad you saw reason. Paying off witnesses was getting expensive. I’ll expect a list of all your rackets in two days, and for you to be gone within a week.” He turned to Hong. “Go find Bana, have her fix up our guest. Feng and I have payment to discuss.”

⁂

“…another knockout for the Laogai Lion Vultures!”

The voice on the radio gave way to cheers and thunderous applause. Elections were over, not that the results had been any real surprise, and the news reports eventually turned to the regular entertainment. Pro-bending and elections on the same night, and people wondered why voter turnout was always disappointing.

“I still think we could have supported more nonbending candidates.”

Asami looked over at Fù sitting a few seats over, grouped around the radio like the rest of them. He had his kali sticks out, balancing one on each hand before dropping them onto his feet, keeping them upright all the while. Some of the others mumbled in agreement, and even with their masks she could pick out their voices.

“You’ve said that,” Asami muttered, the edge in her tone quieting them. “And we’ve been over it. Too many nonbenders on the council might set out with something to prove, and we’ve had enough issues without them mounting a war against us. Again. Besides, shaking things up too fast would raise suspicion, and they’re mostly harmless. Bolin is too busy lining his pockets to care about fighting the Equalists, and Tenzin doesn’t care about anything outside of his little island. We don’t have the numbers to be as brazen as before.”

Fù nodded after a long pause, and the others made no more protest. An icy look from her didn’t hurt, either. She had no reason to doubt their loyalty, and they had no reason to doubt hers. They all knew some firebending thug had killed her mother, and her father had died at the hands of that bloodbending freak when they discovered his secret. Even mentioning his name was enough to earn a withering glare from anyone within earshot. Asami was just glad that almost no one had abandoned the cause and they were willing to rally behind her. They would have preferred her father, she knew— _she_ would have preferred her father—but they had arrived too late to save him. At least she made the bloodbender suffer for that.

“Almost time,” someone said.

They looked down from the roof. Pro-bending night was over, and the spectators were making their usual chaotic push from the arena back to the city proper. Asami watched them, flexing the fingers on her new glove, adjusting to the weight. The banyan vine that replaced the electrical cell made it heavier, but if their calculations were right, the thin length of wood wrapping around the equipment would more than make up for it. Privately, she knew that they were at a severe disadvantage without someone who could permanently take a person’s bending, but they had worked hard to compensate. If nothing else, knowing they were all normal nonbenders was a small boost to morale.

“Did they give the signal yet?” she asked.

“No,” their lookout said, keeping his binoculars trained on a small window on the front of the arena. “They’re probably still be in the locker room. Must not want to mingle with the common people.”

After a half hour, the crowds finally dwindled and receded into the city, off to their homes or to restaurants. Her stomach growled at the thought. Another day spent without a meal, locked in her workshop to finish attaching the spirit vines to their weapons, but it would be worth it. The thought of a hot meal and a warm bath would be enough to keep her going for a little while longer. It had to.

“I know we haven’t had the chance to test these weapons,” Asami said, putting on her best leader voice, “Not in a way I’d like, at any rate. But the timing of this tournament was too perfect to wait, and I have the greatest confidence in your abilities.”

“These are some of the best benders—” She let the venom drip from her voice at the word— “In Republic City. We can send a clear message tonight to everyone. Even their best can’t stand against us.”

Cheering would have been too conspicuous, but they pumped their fists into the air, purple energy crackling from their newly upgraded gloves. She thought it was a better color than the blue they had been, personally. Even Fù gave her a nod and a quick flash of a smile.

The lookout set his binoculars down. “They’re coming out.”

From their perch, Asami could see three small shapes crossing the bridge back to the city. The crowds were gone, and the police had disappeared too, leaving only private guards in the arena, hired from a Future Industries subsidiary. They wouldn’t be any trouble.

“All right.” They went to the lines hooked onto the side of the building and clipped themselves on. Asami pulled her mask over her head, and the world took on the comforting, dim green glow of her goggles. “Let’s go.”

Six black-clad figures zipped down the building face, cutting themselves free as they reached the ground and taking up positions at the end of the bridge. Their weapons hummed in the stillness of the night, primed and ready. Asami’s heart pounded, standing in the center beside Fù. It took a moment for the benders to notice them, but once they did they stopped dead, dropping their bags when they saw they were outnumbered.

“Hello,” Asami said.

One of them threw an arc of fire at them, but their suits were too tough for that. Fù burst through the other side of the flame, landing a kick on the firebender’s arm before jabbing him hard in the gut with both kali sticks. They exploded in violet when they touched his fire chakra and knocked him off his feet, blowing him back toward the arena. He rolled and recovered, trying to throw another burst of fire, but nothing happened before he passed out. His chi would stay blocked for some time, days if the vines were as powerful as they hoped.

The two remaining benders looked at their teammate and then at one another, but the others quickly descended on them. Four bolas shot out and ensnared the earthbender, two wrapping around his legs and two keeping his arms at his side. The spheres glowed purple, triggered by the motion, and a charge carried through the cords, sending him to the ground before he could begin to struggle.

Asami ducked under a long stream of water from the bay underneath the bridge, spinning on her heel while she spread the fingers of her glove. The waterbender tried pulling the water back at her from behind, even sharpening some of it into shards of ice, but a jab to his shoulder broke his focus, and a firm palm to his chest fired him back. With a sweep of her hand she deflected the last piece of ice flying toward her, sending it back into the bay below. The waterbender landed hard on his side, his shirt smoking slightly from where Asami had struck him, and lay still.

“Disappointing,” she said, switching off her glove. The others began dragging the benders together, tying them up and drawing their insignia all over their clothes. “We should’ve found them before the match, at least then they might’ve put up a fight.”

“Not against these weapons.” Fù put his kali sticks back in their holsters. “This test couldn’t have gone better. What do you want to do with them?”

“Fix them to the railing over there.” She pointed to a length of guardrail near the end of the bridge, but the approaching wail of a siren cut their plans short. They ran to the opposite side of the bridge, vaulting the railing and landing in the waiting boat below.

“That ought to be a clear enough warning,” Asami said as the engine roared to life. “The Equalists are back.”

⁂

“Again!”

Korra wiped her brow and shook her arm loose, taking up her starting position once more. She hated drilling, but the sooner it was over the sooner she would get to eat, and she liked to eat. The drills had been growing more frequent, and she knew her techniques still needed improvement, but a break would have been welcome all the same.

_But the Avatar doesn’t get breaks_ , she reminded herself. How many times had she heard that?

Her foot slid out and she took a low, centered position. Hairline fractures appeared in the ground beneath her from the energy flowing up and into her body. She tightened her hands into fists, breaking up the earth in front of her and crumbling it into smaller pieces, then released her hands, flattening them with her palms facing out.

The pieces collapsed into a single, larger shape, and in an instant the heat hit her in a wave. Sweat reappeared on her forehead, trickling along her hair. She had cut it to no longer than an inch or two all over, much shorter than she would have liked, just to keep the sweat out of her eyes, but it never seemed to help. Weight and strain flowed through her arms and she struggled to keep them level, but she managed. She always managed.

Bright red lines appeared in her small mound of earth, and with a flick of her wrists it collapsed into lava, spilling onto the floor with a long, sharp _hiss_. Korra smiled inwardly at her most successful attempt of the day.

“Now cool it.”

“I know the steps,” she said under her breath, balling up her fists again. The brightness quickly faded, leaving smoke to rise from the blackened pile. “It’s not like I haven’t done this a hundred times this week…”

“What?”

“Nothing!”

Korra adjusted her collar while her work was inspected. That had to be good enough. It had to be, or she was going to be doing the next drill from the kitchen. A pang of hunger shot through her abdomen. She hadn’t eaten since the day before, or maybe the day before that. Sometimes she couldn’t remember.

“It’ll have to do,” Ghazan said, sweeping his hands to smooth out the floor. Korra scowled and crossed her arms.

“That was better than any other time today!”

“Better. Not good.”

“Can I get something to eat now?”

“Not the egg rolls, I’m saving those.”

It was all the assent she needed. Korra bolted out of the room before Ghazan could change his mind and put her through her paces again, heading for the kitchen. Their house was small, too small for five people to live very comfortably, but easy to move through quickly, and she didn’t need much space.

She grinned when she saw the seaweed noodles were still in the icebox. Korra grabbed the bowl and carried it into the common room, debating whether or not to go back for chopsticks, when she saw Zaheer at the table with one of his poetry books. A chill snaked down her spine, expecting another lesson about some long-dead guru or ancient airbending technique—not that she had been able to airbend at all—but he said nothing as she sat across from him and laid into her seaweed noodles.

“Hi,” she eventually got out between mouthfuls. He folded a page over to mark his place and set the book down.

“Hello, Korra. How did your practice go?”

“Ghazan said it’ll have to do,” she said, a noodle almost flying out of her mouth. Tact wasn’t something that mattered much to her during her first meal in days.

Zaheer nodded. “High praise from him. And your usual exercises? Anything?”

Her expression fell, and whatever hunger she still felt gave way to shame. “I went through the Bagua circle for three hours this morning, but…nothing happened. Even when I went through all the forms.”

Korra couldn’t look at him. She hated to disappoint any of them, but especially Zaheer. “Don’t worry,” he finally said. “We knew that would be a challenge. That’s why you’re going to Republic City. All of the world’s other airbenders are there, and you can learn from them in secret.”

“But why can’t tell anyone I’m the Avatar?”

“It’s complicated.” Zaheer put a hand on his poetry book. “The truth is like a moth fly in a box. Manageable, until you turn it loose.”

“The way you go on with those poems it’s like you expect to wake up one day and start airbending.”

He smiled. “Wouldn’t that be something. But if no one knows you’re the Avatar, you can move freely, find a way to get close to the council, and take them out. You’ll be able to fix all the problems the last Avatar caused, and help start to bring balance back to the world.”

“One less power to keep people controlled,” she repeated. She knew all the lessons, another one wasn’t necessary.

“Exactly. And while you’re in Republic City, we’ll be doing the same, finding the people that decided it was their right to rule and removing them.”

“Where are you going first?” Korra asked.

“We haven’t figured that out yet. The Southern Water Tribe would be closest.”

She nodded, vaguely excited at the thought. Her old home, liberated first. She would have liked to join them, but they said she would stand out too much there, and she had to master airbending besides. No one at the South Pole could teach her that. Better to blend into Republic City, find a way to learn airbending, and start dismantling the last Avatar’s mistake. That seemed appropriate.

Zaheer glanced out the window, where the sun was beginning to set. “It’s almost time. Are you ready?”

“Not like I have anything to pack.”

She followed him out of the house and down to the docks, where Ming-Hua was busy with her own version of fishing, picking up large spheres of water and straining the fish inside into a bucket. P’Li knelt beside the hull of one of their boats, welding on a replacement piece near the gangplank. Korra smiled at the thought of all the space below the deck, space where she could stretch out on her bedroll without bumping into a wall or someone’s arm. That alone made her look forward to making the journey by herself.

“Republic City is about a week from here,” Zaheer said, pointing off toward the horizon. “Northeast. You know what constellations to navigate with?”

“Of course.”

Ghazan had joined them on the dock, looking at Ming-Hua’s bucket full of fish before turning his attention back to them. “There’s a backpack on the bridge with supplies,” he said. “Plus a little gift from the four of us.”

Korra cocked her head. A gift? She understood the concept, but they had never gotten her any gifts, unless she counted new clothes when she outgrew her old ones. Beyond what she was wearing and the whalebone knife in her boot, she didn’t even have _things_ , much less gifts.

“Oh…thank you.” P’Li finished repairing the hull and joined them, as did Ming-Hua when she noticed that her bucket was full. “Thank you all. I won’t let you down.”

She hugged each of them in turn, but nearly jumped into Zaheer’s arms when she turned to him, earning a sidelong glare from P’Li when she did. Korra supposed she was still upset that she had never managed to pick up combustionbending. They watched her start up the gangplank as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

“Good luck, Korra,” Zaheer said.

“I’m the Avatar.” She looked northeast, out to the sea, out toward Republic City. “I don’t need luck.”


	2. Welcome to Republic City

“It’s only a family dinner, I think I can handle myself from here.”

Bolin’s security nodded and started back toward city hall. He would have just as soon not gone and left Mako to deal with their relatives from Ba Sing Se, but Mako had threatened to leak his baby pictures to the press if he didn’t attend. With a quick adjustment of his lapel pin, he took the front steps two at a time and knocked on the door. They had certainly found a nice place when they moved to Republic City, a row house in the heart of midtown, which Bolin was reminded of every month when he paid the mortgage on it.

The door flew open, and Bolin quickly found himself in the midst of a very powerful hug from his cousin. Perhaps sending his security away wasn’t the wisest idea, he thought while the air rushed from his lungs.

“Strong as ever, Tu…could you put me down, I’d like to start breathing again.”

Tu set him back on the porch and clapped him on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Councilor!” he said, snapping a playful salute. “Everyone stayed up to hear the results.”

“Come on now, it’s ‘Bolin,’ not ‘Councilor.’ How’s everything here?”

He followed Tu inside, where the scent of cooking food hit him hard. Spices and sauces and meats intermingling in the air made his stomach growl. “You know, same as usual. Grandma always saying that you and Mako don’t visit enough, and that her turtle duck soup is the only way to get you two to come around. I said to her, ‘Grandma, we’re here all the time, me and Meng-Meng and Chow Junior.’ I guess you guys remind her of Uncle San.”

“Well, I do have a city to help run, and Mako has his…construction company. We’re trying to make things better. They’re demanding jobs.”

“So’s running the fruit store, but we manage!”

Bolin sighed inwardly and simply nodded. He and Mako had agreed when they brought their family to the city not to involve them in their less savory work, and though they had been successful so far, neither of them knew how long their façade would last. His own involvement with Asami and her Equalists was easy enough to keep from them, along with the rest of the city, but if Mako really had run the other triads out of town, it might have been simple to connect him to the last remaining group. The police certainly made the leap, judging by Lin Beifong’s vendetta against Mako that he heard about every week before smoothing it over and placating her for another few days. Tu might not have been terribly bright, but someone in their family was sure to eventually figure out what the rest of the city already knew.

“You’re absolutely right, Tu,” he said, putting on his best politician’s smile and leading him into the common room, where Mako sat, sipping tea. They exchanged a cursory glance before Bolin continued. “We haven’t been visiting enough, and we know how much Grandma Yin likes seeing us. Mako and I will make more of an effort to stop by. And not only for the turtle duck soup.”

“We will?” Mako asked, setting down his tea.

Tu looked at them, then smiled and nodded. “Well, great! Grandma will be happy. Come by the store some time, too. I bet an endorsement from the city’s favorite Councilor wouldn’t hurt business.”

“I’ll see about getting it into my schedule. Why don’t you see how dinner’s coming?”

He went into the kitchen, and Bolin sat on the couch opposite Mako who looked at him, unamused.

“I’m glad you’re so comfortable making plans for me.”

“Good to see you too, Mako.”

“You know, I realize that you’re able to make promises that you have no intention of keeping like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like when you promised to increase investigations into triad and Equalist activity. But see, in my business, I’m in the unfortunate position of having to keep my word. Everything hinges on it.”

Bolin scoffed and stretched out. “In _your business_. The mighty principled gangster with his unbreakable word. You firebenders and your perverse sense of honor. Have you come down from on high to enlighten us on the great morality of the criminal underworld?”

“Call it what you like. At least I don’t truss up bribes as donations to some nonexistent campaign fund. You wouldn’t have those votes if it wasn’t for me.”

“And you wouldn’t have the freedom that you do if it wasn’t for me!”

“Yes, and you wouldn’t be able to mount a campaign without Asami’s funding, I wouldn’t have a proper business without Future Industries subcontracting to me, and she and her masked morons couldn’t hide as well as they do without using my buildings to hide in. Not to mention all the other ways we depend on each other. It’s a tangled little web we have, isn’t it?”

They sat locked in bitter silence for several minutes, both trying to stare down the other. Bolin opened his mouth to say something, but stopped at the sight of their grandmother shuffling into the room with a ladle. He and Mako sprang to their feet, letting their tension evaporate for the time being.

“Hi Grandma,” Bolin said, wrapping her in a hug. Mako followed suit, and Yin offered him the ladle.

“Taste this for me.” Mako took the ladle from her and sampled a bit of the broth, swishing it for a moment before furrowing his brow.

“Did you try a new kind of seasoning? It tastes different.”

“I did! I knew you’d pick out the spice. Someone was selling it from a cart on the corner the other day. It’s Chungyang pepper powder. Do you like it?”

Mako pursed his lips, trying to keep his eyes from tearing up. “Little strong,” he gasped out, stumbling into the kitchen for water. Yin snatched the ladle as he staggered away and offered it to Bolin.

“Oh, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You try it.”

He took a sip from the ladle—a much smaller sip—and all at once sweat began to bead up on his forehead. His lips puckered, and the tiny morsel of broth burned all the way down his throat. Bolin was surprised that his grandmother had been able to stand over a pot full of the stuff for the better part of the day with her eyebrows intact.

“Well?”

“It’s fantastic! What a kick!”

A beaming smile crept across Yin’s face. “I knew Mako was being a big baby. Come on, don’t stay hiding in here. Everyone got together for you two! This is the first time I’ve been able to get you both here since your election and Mako’s great big business deal. What was it? He was his usual standoffish self when I asked.”

“One of his competitors folded, and his company picked up their business,” Bolin said, couching his words in enough half-truth to avoid lying. “We both might be busy for a while.”

“Well, you’re here now. Let’s go, this soup won’t stay hot forever.”

⁂

“Let go your earthly tether. Enter the void. Empty, and become wind.”

Korra set down her gift, one of Zaheer’s many thumbed-over poetry books, and looked out at the darkened sea. Six days of nothing but featureless blue was beginning to make her rethink her earlier eagerness to travel alone. Six days, sailing from dawn until dusk, and all she had passed were fish and birds. An especially large wave that had rocked the boat three days prior was the highlight of her journey so far. She desperately hoped her map was right and that she would arrive in the morning.

Not so much as a trading skiff or a trawler ever appeared or approached, and it was starting to unnerve her. Korra had never gone more than a waking hour or two without being told to fetch or do something, sparring or fishing or sitting through a lesson. Her eyes would slowly glaze over when Ming-Hua walked her through bending without moving her arms or when Zaheer started in on another history lesson about some tyrant or a centuries-old Air Nomad koan, but it was company.

Months ago the thought of silence, of the privacy she was so unaccustomed to, might have sent her running for the ship. But it was too confined below deck for her liking, and instead she had laid her bedroll out behind the bridge, under the night sky. Now all she wanted was to hear something other than the hum of the engine and her own voice ringing out through the painfully still air.

Her crudely painted Bagua circle took up the whole rear of the ship, almost mocking her in its perfect stillness, the lines receding into the night as the glow from her candle faded. Korra had hoped that the solitude might help her airbend—she was willing to try anything that might have helped—but it did nothing. Meditating, walking the circle, reading Zaheer’s maddeningly cryptic Air Nomad poetry…it did nothing. In the quiet moments when sleep was out of reach, the word “failure” came unbidden and unwelcome to her mind. Korra picked up the book once more, turning to where she had left off.

“Let go,” she began again, “your earthly tether. Oh, this is stupid. I don’t have any tethers!”

That wasn’t entirely accurate, she knew. She had her family, or the people she called her family. After all, they had been kind enough to take her in after the fire that had killed her parents. She did care for them, even if they forgot to feed her some days and ran her into the ground with training. It was all for a good cause.

But training was over, and now she could start helping set things right. Or, she could once she made landfall. There were no governments to dismantle on the open sea. There was _nothing_ on the open sea.

Korra pinched her fingers around the candlelight to snuff it, leaving her adrift with the stars as her only light. The rocking of the boat calmed her, and the crash of waves against the hull had faded into background noise days ago. She took a deep breath of the sea air, clearing her mind and easing herself into her lotus position. The circle appeared in her mind, and she focused on its forms and positions as Zaheer had instructed her so many times before.

“Enter the void.” The poems were useful as a way to still her mind, at least. “Empty, and become wind.”

_Korra…you are peace, and order. Not chaos. Stop this._

She opened her eyes and tried to shake her head clear. _That_ voice nagged at her whenever she tried to focus, no matter what she did to shut it out. When she read something for a lesson, when she ran through bending drills or hand-to-hand fighting, or when she was simply sitting still, it was there. It was a woman’s voice, but not hers. Nor was it P’Li’s or Ming-Hua’s, and those were all the women she knew. They told her to ignore it, but then they didn’t have it in their heads, either. It was the previous Avatars trying to lead her astray, they said.

If it was, she was more than happy to shut it out. The last Avatars in her cycle had been fools, after all. Kyoshi let a madman grind the Earth Kingdom under his heel for years while she did nothing, Roku allowed his Fire Lord friend to start a war and kill the Air Nomads, and Aang…well, Aang’s mistakes she could fix.

She had never read about an Avatar named “Raava,” though, the name they had used when they thought Korra wasn’t listening, but there had been many Avatars and she had studied only a few.

“Be quiet,” she said. “I don’t need you.”

The voice said nothing more, but the hairs on the back of Korra’s neck still stood up. She could _feel_ it inside her, trying to distract her, trying to hold her back and keep her from honoring the promises she made to Zaheer and the others.

“Get out. Get out!”

Korra kicked with both feet, sending fire all over the deck. A length of rope in the corner caught flame, and she had to bend some seawater up to douse it. She sat back against the wall of the bridge, holding her head in her hands.

“I don’t want you in my head,” Korra muttered, her thumbs digging into her temples. The rocking of the boat suddenly seemed terribly disorienting, the breaking waves distractingly loud. She had the fight the urge to writhe at the feeling of being so full of some _other_. “You’re the ones that let the world get this way. Take all the other Avatars and leave me alone.”

She took a few deep breaths, crawled onto her bedroll and closed her eyes. Her fingers clutched at the fabric, and she tossed and turned until she was comfortable. The feeling was gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of doubt.

 _Instinct is a lie,_ she said to herself, curling into a ball and pulling her legs up to her chest. _I’m doing the right thing. A good thing. I’m going to make things better for everyone._

The words did nothing to soothe her, and sleep only came hours later after lines of tears stained her face.

⁂

Fog hung thick in the early morning air, standing in solemn stillness only inches above the ground. Appropriate, she thought, if unsettling. It obscured the footpath winding through the land, but Asami knew the way without looking. She looked around, and though the fog made it difficult to see very far, she appeared to be the only one there. Not that she expected a cemetery to be very busy in the humid pre-dawn. Still, she hated being alone. Walking down the path, roses held lightly in her hand, only served to remind her of how alone she was.

After a few twists and turns, Asami came to the plots, set close together with simple markers at the far end of their row, away from the footpath. The fog was not as dense there, and she could see the ground and their headstones with ease. She reached out and ran her hand over the smooth stone, her fingers drifting slowly across their names. Yasuko, Hiroshi. Mom, Dad. The words were still raw for her.

“Hi,” Asami said, fighting the lump in her throat as she sat seiza in front of their graves. “I know I haven’t been coming lately. Lots of things have been happening. We got new contracts, so the company will be set for a while.”

She set one of the roses on her mother’s grave. “We found the man who…who murdered you, Mom.” Her jaw clenched as she tried to maintain her composure. “He won’t be hurting anyone ever again. And Dad, we managed to regroup enough people after we killed that freak to remind the city that we’re still here.”

Her hand tightened around the remaining rose, its thorns cutting into her palm. “With the new power source we’re using no one will be able to stop us, and we can finally put normal people on equal footing with the benders.”

Scarlet stained the rose’s stem as she set it on his grave. Asami looked at her hand, still dribbling blood where the thorns had pierced her skin. She closed her palm and let it drip onto the ground, disappearing in the grass.

“I miss you both so much,” she murmured, falling to all fours while the tears welled up. They fell, fresh and hot, mixing and mingling with the blood while she tried to keep from sobbing any more. “I miss you every day.”

The wind began to blow, sending some leaves flowing past her. Asami reached into her jacket pocket and retrieved a small spirit vine, turning it over in her hand. Tiny contact points where the wires from her glove connected to it had blackened slightly. She held it up in front of her father’s grave.

“Here it is, Dad. This is what we’re going to use to level the playing field. The spirits might not have been on our side before, but they are now. No one can fight us with this technology, and I’m going to make them all pay for you and Mom and everyone else. We’re going to make things better for nonbenders.”

Slowly, shakily, she got to her feet. “I love you,” she said quietly, and started back toward the main footpath. It was still humid, but the fog was fading as more of the sun peeked over the horizon. A few groundskeepers had arrived to start their day, and they gave her small nods as they passed. Fù stood by the car, opening the back door when she returned.

“The office?” he asked.

“No.” Asami shook her head and crossed her arms. “No, you go. I need a walk. I’ll find my way back.”

The car pulled away, leaving her walking slowly down the sidewalk and watching the city wake up. Small trucks weaved through the streets, delivering milk and ice and newspapers. Streetcars glided on their tracks, and some of the citizens with long commutes from the city outskirts chased after them. Every street she turned down was familiar, as well it should have been. It was one of the neighborhoods they had built.

Asami bought some tea from a vendor on the corner and sat on a nearby bench, sipping it while the city passed her by. It was a small relief to be invisible, to not have everyone that passed bow slightly or trip over their words when they had to ask her something. Outside of work, she could be just another citizen, enjoying an early drink. Certainly the mask of anonymity was more pleasant than her actual one, hidden away with the rest of her uniform.

She finished her tea and returned the cup before starting down the street again. Her hand gripped the spirit vine in her pocket, gnarled but still oddly smooth. They felt so terribly brittle, and more than once she was afraid of crushing them in her hand while she attached them to their weapons, but they did not break for anything less than a diamond-tipped saw. The small burn marks that appeared after use still concerned her, but there would be more tests to find out exactly what they could do.

The smell of salt in the air surprised her, and when she broke herself out of her reverie she saw the docks around her and the bay to the west. She looked at her watch; it was nearly noon, and she had walked across almost half the city. Had she gone much farther, she would have been swimming. Asami smiled and went along the boardwalk, looking at the ships in port. Between the cargo ships and police cutters, a beat-up old pocket cruiser was pulling in, chugging toward the dock. She would have continued to watch, but a figure in front of one of her warehouses caught her eye.

“Mako.”

He turned when he felt her eyes on him and smiled. “Asami.”

“Something interesting about my warehouse?” she asked, folding her arms as she approached him.

“You tell me. I hear there are all kinds of interesting things inside.”

Anger flashed across her face for an instant, but she stayed calm. Someone had told him about the rest of the spirit vines in storage. “Only boxes. The odd alarm system.”

“Really…I heard something about weapons. Very dangerous to be out at night lately, you see.” His eyes narrowed. “There was a bad fight by the pro-bending arena not a week ago, so I was thinking about getting something. For protection, of course.”

“You have your bending.” She did not bother disguising the rancor in her voice.

“So did the guys laid up in the hospital right now. Or, they did until they were attacked. Must have been a powerful weapon to keep them from bending for days. Who would have something like that?”

“I’m not going to keep playing this game.” Asami motioned toward the rest of the dock, which was empty but for a crew unloading a frigate and the tiny cruiser finally pulling into port with the help of two dockhands. “We’re alone. Say what you want.”

“You and your people started that on my turf. I don’t like you operating where I do my business.”

“That’s all on the bay, it’s Red Monsoon territory,” Asami said, but Mako was already shaking his head.

“Not anymore. It’s mine now. Along with everything else. You know, I’m the one that found the Agni Kai who killed your mother,” he said, taking a step toward her. Asami stood in her place, but slowly turned her body until only her side was facing him. “He had gone straight a few years ago, but I still put him in the river with the rest of them.”

“I never asked you to kill anyone.”

“You sure didn’t seem too upset when I told you what we did to him, and don’t act like you don’t have blood on your hands. I heard what you did to the last Equalist leader. The point is, I did that as a favor to you so that we wouldn’t have these little spats. And yet here we are,” he said, lowering his voice.

⁂

The air was especially humid, but that mattered little with land so tantalizingly close. Finally she was back in civilization…or she would be, once she got the boat docked.

Korra growled in frustration and tried to maneuver the boat parallel to the pier again, but she overcorrected, lightly bumping the bow into a post and drawing looks and sniggers from the dockhands nearby. After one more failed attempt and the urge to call up waves to move the boat for her, the dockhands took pity on her and came over to help. One hopped on deck and threw ropes out to the other, who fastened the boat to the pier and finally helped guide it in properly. Korra cut the engine, shouldered her bag, and hopped onto dry land for the first time in a week.

“Thanks,” she said to the dockhands. “Do you know how to get to Air Temple Island?”

“It’s back out in the bay, but…you might want to wait for the ferry,” one of them said.

She frowned. It wasn’t her fault that she was supposed to blend in and avoid bending, or that they hardly ever let her pilot the boat before. Korra wanted to retort, but the only two figures on the boardwalk caught her attention. A man and a woman, with him standing over her, a little too close for comfort. With a quick twist, she moved past the dockhands and ran up the stairs, tightening the straps on her bag to keep it securely on her back.

“…and yet here we are,” she heard from the man as he took another step toward her.

“Hey!” Korra shifted to expose her side as they both looked at her. “Leave her alone.”

The man cocked an eyebrow. His suit was trimmed in gold around the edges, a luxurious red scarf hung about his neck, and sparks were already swirling at his fingertips, none of which did much to endear him to Korra. He turned on his heel to face her more fully.

“Excuse me?” the man asked, taking a step toward her. Korra took a deep breath and watched his hands. “Beat it, Water Tribe.”

“How about you make me?”

He tightened one hand into a fist, letting fire burst out from both sides, but he never had a chance to lift his arm. Korra threw jabs at him in a flurry of motion, from his elbow to his shoulder, and the flame sputtered out uselessly around his hand. She did the same for his other arm, weaving around him to get a better angle, before hooking her boot behind his knee and sending him to the ground. The woman stepped out of the way as he fell, and Korra kept her pose as she stood over him.

“Or I could make you. Beat it.”

The man got to his feet slowly, unable to push himself off the ground with his arms. His jaw was set in a hard line, but he made no move toward Korra. “That was a mistake,” he said through a snarl before heading down the boardwalk, turning back and shooting her glares every so often until he turned a corner.

“Are you okay?” Korra asked the woman, relaxing her stance. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, he was only grandstanding. But thank you.” She inched slightly closer to Korra, fixing her hair as she did. “You know, even if I hadn’t watched you literally just get off the boat, doing that would’ve told me you were new in town.”

“Yeah well, I don’t like seeing anyone getting pushed around. Especially when people use bending to do it.”

A smile slowly crossed her lips. It was much better that way than with her earlier look of vague apprehension, Korra thought. “I couldn’t agree more. I’m Asami.”

“Korra. Nice to meet you.”


	3. A Leaf in the Wind

“So what brings you here, Korra? Other than righting wrongs and defending people.”

It took her a moment to think of a reply. All the way from home, she had imagined how to answer that question when someone inevitably asked it, but nothing she thought of ever seemed reasonable. Normally she prided herself on being a quick thinker, but as long as she kept eye contact with Asami, the connection between her mind and her mouth faltered. She seemed almost effortlessly beautiful, like a character from one of her books. Korra did not know what to do about the knot forming in her chest, either.

“I’m…I’m moving here,” she said. She supposed it was true, for the time being.

“Well, it sure seems like you can handle yourself, so welcome to Republic City. How long were you at sea?”

“Almost a week. You wouldn’t know where I could get some food that isn’t fish, do you? I haven’t had anything else for a while,” Korra said, putting her hand over her stomach. She hadn’t bothered catching anything earlier, choosing instead to stay at the helm in search of land. Without remembering the exact figure, she knew that she had only a small amount of money in her bag, but it had to be enough for at least a small meal.

Asami tried to keep from cringing. “Only fish for that long? Come on, I know a restaurant nearby. I need to thank you for dealing with Mako, anyway.”

She offered Korra her hand and she took it, letting Asami lead her along the docks. Everything was so…built up compared to what she was used to. Their small, plain house on its little island was nothing compared to the massive buildings they passed. None of the pictures and paintings of cities she had seen managed to properly capture the scope of the city, and a small sense of dread overtook her at the thought of the size of everything she had yet to see.

“You knew that jerk?” Korra asked, trying to pull her thoughts back to a scale she could understand.

“Unfortunately.” Asami slowly let their hands drift apart as Korra matched her pace. “He’s a triad boss. The only triad boss left, apparently, so you might want to be careful for a while.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I saw. That was some impressive chi blocking, his arms just went limp. Where’d you learn to do that?”

“Oh, uh, my family taught me.”

“They teach that in the Water Tribes?” Asami asked, turning toward her.

“I wouldn’t know.” Korra adjusted her bag and frowned. “I left when I was young.”

“Wait…wasn’t that the name of the last Avatar? Korra? The one that died.”

“It’s a pretty popular name,” she said nonchalantly. “Hold up, if that guy was a triad boss, why isn’t he in jail or something?”

Asami stopped at a crosswalk, and grabbed a strap on Korra’s bag to keep her from continuing into the street. She sheepishly backpedaled to Asami’s side and muttered a quiet thanks. “What people know and what the police can prove are two different things. Plus his brother is a Councilor, so the police are even more hamstrung than usual.”

“Ugh,” Korra said, not bothering to hide her distaste. It didn’t seem as though Asami minded, and she thought she even saw a small nod of agreement at her outburst. It seemed Zaheer had the right of it about Republic City’s government. Not a half hour in the city and she was already finding reasons for why it had to go. She followed Asami across the street, rushing ahead of the throng of people beginning to cross. Every so often she would look over her shoulder to make sure Korra was still behind her, and Korra felt a goofy grin on her face every time she did. There was a lightness in her stomach that grew whenever they locked eyes, and she found herself trying to catch Asami’s gaze to feel it again.

“Here we are!”

The building she indicated looked more like a shrine than a restaurant, its roof resembling that of a pagoda, but sure enough there were tables outside where people were eating and taking advantage of the warm day. Korra remembered the small roll of money in her bag.

“This looks…fancy,” she said, trying to take a step back before Asami reached for her arm.

“It’s my treat. And no fish.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Korra began, and Asami led her inside.

 _So much space_ , she thought as they walked in. Her house could have fit inside with room to spare; it may as well have been a palace to her. Carefully placed lighting and columns kept the room slightly darkened, a band played softly in the far corner, and waiters were running so many fresh dishes from the kitchen that Korra needed a moment to take it all in.

“Wow.” It was all she could muster.

The maître d’ whisked them off after a moment to a private corner booth, situated in a quiet, nearly empty section. Korra slid in first, resisting the urge to play with the flame from the candle on their table, and Asami followed after her, taking the menus before the maître d’ returned to the door.

“I take it back, this looks really fancy.”

“Get whatever you like,” Asami said, handing her a menu. Korra went to take it, letting their hands linger for a moment. “So, where did you grow up?”

“Fire Nation.” The word _Nation_ tasted bitter in her mouth. She had only figured it out when she looked at the map on the boat a week earlier and judging from the direction she had to take to reach Republic City. “The outskirts, anyway. It was a tiny island, pretty much out at sea.”

Asami nodded. “Some of my family is from there, too. Interesting place for a Water Tribe girl to end up.”

“My family never really believed in all the divisions between nations. Wait, there are how many courses in these meals?”

“Two or three, usually. And you decided to move here, just like that?” Asami asked, setting her menu aside and turning all of her attention to Korra. “Awfully brave. But judging from what I’ve seen, you don’t seem to mind diving headfirst into things.”

Korra tried to hide her smile, but the praise under the words eked out a grin, one that Asami returned. She rubbed the back of her neck and closed her menu, settling on a plate of turkey duck and vegetables with white dragon tea. “No, I don’t. And I’m here because I have an interest in the world’s governments. The United Republic’s, particularly.”

A waiter retrieved the menus and took their orders before disappearing into the kitchen again, leaving their section empty. “Here to take in the political process, then?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I hope it was worth the trip. Most of us lowly nonbenders can only get so involved.”

Korra sat back in her seat, trying not to tap her fingers on the table. It didn’t feel good, lying to the girl who had been so nice to her, but she wondered if she would keep being so nice if Korra played with the candle flame or moved the water between their glasses. The venom in her voice suggested that her opinion would change rapidly. She would glance at her every so often or when she asked Korra a question, and Korra didn’t want that to stop. If the whole Council had walked in, she would have been hard pressed to so much as leave their table.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Asami took a sip of her water and shrugged. “It’s not like it’s so different from anywhere else. Sure, the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom are ruled by nonbenders, but the actual ruling class is still mostly benders. At least here we have more opportunities, and they hardly have all the power in the city.”

Their first course came, and Korra tucked in without preamble, grabbing a bit of everything with her chopsticks. Asami ate in more controlled, measured bites, watching her tablemate with no small amusement. She hit the end of the plate after only a few minutes, still trying to process the unfamiliar richness of the food and the knowledge that half of the meal still had yet to come.

“You sure were hungry.”

“I skipped fishing this morning,” Korra said, feeling the heat building up in her face. “Last night, too. Getting off the water was all I could think about. That, and never eating fish ever again.” She shuddered, and Asami smiled.

“Well, I’m happy to have saved you from the fish. Looks like the next course is coming. I love coming here in the off-hours…the kitchen is fast, and it’s so quiet. Private.”

Korra started when she felt Asami’s foot bump her own, but did not pull away. Their second course arrived, but she found herself looking over at her dining partner more than the turkey duck she had been so eager for. Instead she shrunk in her seat while nervousness flared in her chest, torn between the desire to disappear and the desire to scoot closer. She picked lightly at the food, trying to distract herself.

“Is it not cooked the way you like it?” Asami asked. “They can send it back.”

“No, no. It’s delicious, really. Thank you…for all of this.”

She gave Korra a heavy-lidded look with a small smile. “My pleasure.”

With their meal finished, they slid out of their booth and started for the door. “I must have spent at least half the day away from my office,” Asami said.

“I didn’t keep you, did I?”

She shook her head. “They’ll survive without me for a little while. Besides, I had a much more interesting time with you.”

Korra couldn’t help but flush, mercifully masked by the dim lighting.

“I guess I ought to call in, though. Send some people to watch that warehouse, at least. Mako can be annoyingly persistent.”

“Do you need any help?”

Asami gave her a small pat on the arm. “You’re sweet. My people can handle it, though. Where are you staying?”

“On my boat, I guess. I was going to visit Air Temple Island today, I heard there was a ferry?”

“It’s right near where you’re docked,” Asami said, stepping out of the way to let others pass into the restaurant. “After it makes a circuit of the city coastline it goes out there, you can’t miss the horn.”

“Thanks, I should head over there. This was really nice, Asami.”

She chanced a quick, light hug, which Asami seemed happy to return. “It was. Maybe I’ll see you by the docks again?”

“Yeah! I mean, yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good.”

Korra went out onto the street, looking back one more time before disappearing into the afternoon rush. Asami watched until she vanished, and then went to the phone in an alcove beside the front door. With a quick glance around, she dialed her own number.

“Asami Sato’s office.”

“Fù, it’s me. Anyone raring for a fight with some triads?”

“Just about everyone, I’d imagine. Why?”

“Call it a hunch. Five or six people to watch the warehouse on the bay with me should be enough. Oh, and bring my uniform.”

⁂

She could hardly keep still while she waited for the traffic to stop so she could cross the street. Korra’s heart still pounded in her chest, and a sharp tingling ran down her arms and legs as she hurried with the crowd through the crosswalk. Coherent thought was difficult, and it was all she could do to follow the route back to the waterfront, where she saw signs indicating the way to the ferry stop nearby.

A few covered benches sat empty on the pier, but Korra stood, unwilling to part with the sensation of floating from their lunch. Every so often she noticed a grin growing on her face, and she wavered from side to side when she did. The heady feeling was more richly fulfilling than her meal, and she didn’t want it to stop.

When an hour had passed, and what looked like a ferry slowly sailed by out in the water, Korra finally noticed a schedule and a clock near the stairs leading back up to the boardwalk. She had at least another hour until the ferry circled back, and the sun was already beginning its slow creep toward the horizon. Air Temple Island was visible out in the bay, and with a quick glance around she saw the waiting area was still empty.

“Who’s going to see?” she asked, and dove into the water. A spout rose up to catch her, and she disappeared under the surf. The familiar comfort of the sea surrounded her, the water pressing pleasantly on her body like it did when she would try to skip lessons by hiding under the boat. Korra flicked her wrist and the water around her head rushed outward, leaving her a small bubble to breathe. She took a moment to orient herself and sink a bit farther to avoid any passing ships, and then turned while straightening out her body.

Korra rocketed under the bay, twisting like a corkscrew to maintain her heading, and all at once the rush and surge of bending came back to her, flowing along her chi paths to reach out and force her will on the world around her. It made her feel alive.

The seafloor grew more and more shallow beneath her, until smooth stones bumped her fingertips as she spun. Korra righted herself, focused on the shimmering surface of the water above, and brought her hands down in front of her. Part of the ground rose under her feet and shot her upwards. The water broke around her, rippling as she soared through the air, flipped twice, and landed on the small stone dock at the edge of the island.

Where the city proper had a rushed, almost oppressive atmosphere, Air Temple Island had anything but. The waves lapped slowly on the shore, the few animals she could see watched her from their perches with casual disinterest, and chimes blowing in the breeze replaced the honking horns and shouts of people. Even the air seemed more still.

 _Zaheer would love this_ , she thought as she started up the steps toward the temple. A few boats were docked there, but there was no one on the pier to have seen her burst out from under the surf. Korra focused on the water clinging to her clothes and bag and bent it out into the air around her, leaving it to fall in a puddle as she walked. The stairs opened onto a courtyard, where two men stood, deep in conversation, near the edge of a proper Bagua circle.

The shorter of the two men had thick black hair, held in place by something slick, and bright green eyes that matched the rather garish shirt peeking out from beneath his suit jacket. His body moved as much as his mouth, animatedly gesturing in time with every word. The taller man stood more still in maroon and saffron robes, watching him with barely-concealed annoyance. His beard moved slightly as he pursed his lips, and his head was shaved to display the pale blue arrow tattooed along his head. They wore the same small gold pin on their clothes. Councilors.

She bristled. It would have been a simple thing to turn the ground underneath them to lava, and maybe catch them by surprise, but she wanted to find all five of them at once, and she had no experience combating airbending besides. Instead she slowly approached them, hunching her shoulders forward to look as small and as innocent as possible.

“I’m only asking that you think about it, Tenzin,” the shorter man said. “You could get the rest of the Council on board with the renovations you want. I’d like to help you, but I’m only one person. This is about—oh, who’s this? The new acolytes are getting cuter.”

Korra grimaced, and both of them turned to face her. “No, she isn’t…actually, I’m not sure. Is there something I can help you with, young lady?” Tenzin asked.

She had to tamp down a fleeting burst of familiarity at the sight of her last life’s son. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Master Tenzin. My name is Korra, I was hoping to speak with you, but I can wait.”

The shorter man shrugged while she mentally smacked herself for using her real name. It was too late to go with Ummi, she supposed. “Don’t worry, I was getting ready to leave. Next week, then?”

“Yes, yes. Good day, Bolin.”

He took his leave, giving Korra a smile as he passed that she did not care to return. “Politics,” Tenzin said wearily, before turning his attention to her. “Anyway. Korra, you said? That was the last Avatar’s name.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. I’m a…student at the university in Omashu, and I’m researching Air Nomad culture.”

“Really? You came all the way here for a project?”

“No stone left unturned, right? I’ve done as much research from books as I can, but I thought it would help to see things in action, and I was hoping you’d allow me to observe you and your family and the acolytes for a while.”

Tenzin stiffened slightly. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with someone just watching my children.”

“I wouldn’t ask if there were any other option, but you’re the only airbenders in the world. Everyone else is an acolyte, and bending was such a large part of the culture. But I’m sure you already know that. The rest of the world should know that the Air Nomads are still here, and I can help tell them that.”

Korra grinned inwardly as she watched his resistance flag at her suggestion. A leader’s ego was such an easy thing to stroke and exploit, as Zaheer would tell her, but she hadn’t expected it to work so well or so quickly. “That would be a good thing…did you mean to stay here, in the temple?”

“I have a place in the city, there wouldn’t be any need to inconvenience you. All I need is a spot to observe. You won’t even know I’m there.”

He mulled over her offer for a moment before giving her a small nod. “I suppose we can try this for a little while, Korra.”

“Great! I’m sure this will be good for all of us. Thank you, Tenzin.”

⁂

“Yes, the one on the boardwalk facing the water! How many times do I have to say it before you pay attention? You don’t even have the intelligence to be a proper sycophant, it’s like you’re bending all the blood away from your brain.”

Kija withered under Mako’s glare and nodded quickly. “The one on the boardwalk. Cheng and Xi are on their way, too.”

“Is it a good idea to do this so soon, boss?” Shen asked, twirling rocks around her fingers. “She saw you staking out the warehouse, after all.”

“And that’s exactly why it has to be now.” Mako snapped his hand shut a few times, making sure whatever that Water Tribe girl did had worn off. Fire burst reliably around his fist again. “She’s going to move that stuff soon now that she knows we’re after it. Not to mention that she’ll clamp down on who knows where it’s going. Our source in the company won’t be good anymore.”

Shen nodded reluctantly, checking over her hand wraps while Mako waited for Cheng and Xi. A tall, stolid woman, Shen was at least half a head above everyone else in the triad, especially her partner Kija, towering easily over the smaller, wiry waterbender.

“What if they’ve already moved the weapons? This is going to jeopardize our truce with the Equalists no matter what, and a fight might be the only thing we get out of it.”

“I thought you enjoyed a good fight,” Mako said. “Or is that only when it’s in a ring? Doesn’t matter. We’ll take the risk. Either we get the weapons, in which case they won’t be an issue, or we don’t, and the ceasefire doesn’t last as long as we’d like. They weren’t going to leave us alone forever, they’re fanatics. Besides, they put those pro-benders in the hospital on our turf. If we don’t answer that, they’ll only get bolder.”

Kija opened the door to let Cheng and Xi walk in, brimming with anticipation. It had been too long since they all had a good fight. “Boss.”

“You’re late. Remember, keep your distance, stay moving, and don’t get caught by those gloves. Understand?”

They all nodded, and Mako led them out of the building toward the van. “Good. Let’s keep from making too much noise, the docks might not be empty yet.”

Kija drove them west, toward the boardwalk and into the sunset. Mako drummed his knuckles on the passenger window, watching the city speed by. Privately, he knew Shen had a point, but they couldn’t leave the Equalist issue unanswered, and it was only a matter of time before open conflict ripped apart the fragile peace they had settled into since Asami’s little coup. They turned onto the north end of the docks, and Mako tapped his first two fingers together, letting tiny blue sparks spring up from the contact.

“Looks like no one’s there,” Kija said, pulling off to the side of the boardwalk. The back of the van opened silently to let Cheng, Xi and Shen slip out, with Mako and Kija close behind. A single light buzzed intermittently over the large cargo door, and Kija threw a shard of ice from the bay to blow it out. Shen curled away a large section of the cargo door and they rushed in, only to come face to face with a half dozen figures in masks.

“Bad boy, Mako.” It was muffled, but it was the same breathy voice that was etched into his memory. The same girl that had walked an extra hour every day after school to buy him and Bolin lunch when they were panhandling. The same girl that had given him his first nervous kiss behind her father’s workshop.

“Asami.” He expected her people. Not her.

A bolas flew toward him, its ends glowing purple. He threw his hand up, sending an arc of flame through the cord and at the Equalists. Three of them dove out of the way, rolling behind a stack of crates while the others ran right through the attack to charge them. Shen ripped up parts of the floor to break their footing, but her movements were too heavily telegraphed, and they were able to weave around the attack. One of them slid on his side past her, catching her leg with his glove. Violet energy crackled around her body, and she fell to the floor, unconscious. Kija flung the water from the skin on his belt at him, freezing it around the glove and shoving it to the floor.

Cheng and Xi had their hands full, each of them trying to gain ground on the Equalists dogging them through the warehouse. At point-blank range they had no space to build up the momentum they needed to firebend, forcing them to dodge and backstep. One struck Cheng with quick jabs on the shoulders, throwing him off-balance long enough to slam their glove into his sternum and send him flying back. The other stepped away, leaving Xi to straighten up, then threw one of his kali sticks, hitting Xi in the hip. He seized, staggered into a crate, and slumped uselessly to the ground.

Mako looked back and saw Kija had fallen as well, caught upside the head by the chunk of ice he had wrapped around the Equalist’s glove. They hadn’t even lasted two minutes. He turned around just in time to catch a knee to the chest, and all the air left his lungs. Mako stumbled back, struggling for breath, when his assailant grabbed him by the throat and threw him to the floor. A foot planted itself directly beneath his neck, and through the harsh light from the ceiling he saw its owner take her mask off and hold out her hand for one of the kali sticks.

“Nice to see you, Asami,” he gasped out, still fighting for air. Her heel ground into his collarbone and he winced, trying fruitlessly to work himself free.

“You should have stayed home, Mako. What did you expect to happen?”

He took a deep gulp of air, coughing and sputtering while the Equalists dragged his people into a pile to tie up. “I won’t lie, I saw this going very differently.”

“I’m sure. Here I was, thinking you’d be sensible, but you’re still a fool. To think I cared for you once…that makes me the fool, I guess.” She turned a ring on the kali stick, making the end glow purple and hum in her hand. “You might feel a short, sharp shock.”

Asami pulled her boot away, slammed the stick into his chest, and he knew no more.


	4. The Stakeout

“All right, once more. Deep breaths. Clear your mind. Clear your mind…”

Korra looked up from her notebook and watched Tenzin lead the acolytes through their evening meditation. Except for the wind that picked up every so often and the waves lapping across the island, everything was quiet, and the smell of their weak sandalwood incense filled the air. The sun was ready to set, and the varying reds and purples in the sky made it difficult to look at what she was writing.

There had been nothing to observe in the past week that she hadn’t already known, as far as the spiritual side of things, but she did scribble something down every so often to keep up the pretense of doing research. Tenzin never asked to see her work, possibly in respect to the deeply focused front she presented, and she was glad for that; apart from a carefully drawn Bagua circle and her crude stick figure sketches of them airbending, her notebook was one long illegible scrawl.

“Focus on the void.”

She closed her notebook and got up from her spot. There were the nighttime prayers and the dinner she had a standing invitation to, but she had memorized them long ago and had no stomach for more rice. She had more important things to do.

With a small, unnoticed bow, Korra took her leave, slipping out of the central courtyard and heading to the dock. A few lemurs that stayed in the rafters watched her leave, quickly losing interest when they saw she had no food for them. She watched her shadow stretch toward the steps leading to the water, and noticed another shadow nearby. Tenzin’s eldest daughter sat hunched over on a rock set slightly away from the complex, looking out onto the bay. Jinora, she remembered. Tenzin had mentioned her, but she never saw the girl except in quick flashes as she moved between different parts of the island. Her brother and sister rarely left Korra alone, but Jinora almost seemed to actively avoid her. Korra padded forward as quietly as she could, and she went unnoticed until they were within arm’s reach.

“Hello,” Korra said. Jinora barely turned her head and made some kind of acknowledging grunt. Her clothes were plain gray, in sharp contrast to the saffron and maroon robes everyone else wore. “I’m sorry, did I break your concentration?”

“No. Nothing to concentrate on.”

“I thought I might see you with your family at the meditation. I’m Korra, we haven’t met yet.”

She nodded. “I know who you are. You’re the girl doing the report, the one Ikki and Meelo are always talking about.”

“Yeah, that’s me. Don’t like hanging out with the other airbenders? I guess siblings can get annoying after a while. I would think, anyway, I don’t have any.”

Jinora pulled her legs up and held them tight against her chest. “I’m not an airbender anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

She finally looked at Korra, her face full of dejection. Tears burned in her eyes, ready to fall. “I mean I can’t airbend anymore. The Equalists destroyed that part of me.”

Korra reached to put a hand on her shoulder, but Jinora pushed it away. She remembered them from some of the newspapers she had been allowed to read. Anti-bending insurgents, people she could never quite form an opinion on. Their egalitarian ideals had seemed admirable, but all they wanted to do was replace a government dominated by benders with a government dominated by nonbenders. As a bender herself, the accounts that their leader was able to strip someone of their bending unnerved her, but they had been out of the public eye for years.

“I’m so sorry.” She had nothing else to offer the girl.

“Everyone says that. Everyone is always so sorry. It never makes it feel any better. Now I’m not an Air Nomad, I’m not an acolyte. I’m not anything. They don’t make me join in anything anymore. Why should they? My siblings are the only hope our people have, not me.”

The tears snaked down her cheeks, glistening in the sunset. Korra saw the ferry at the dock, making its final circuit for the night, but she stayed rooted to her spot and put her arms around the girl. Jinora gasped and shuddered at her embrace, finally breaking into sobs. She gripped and clawed at Korra’s shirt, collapsing into her arms like the little sister she desperately needed to be. Korra stroked her back slowly, simply letting her work through it while the ferry pulled away. They stayed locked in silence for several minutes.

“Jinora…I don’t have the words. I’m not going to say sorry again, that would only cheapen it. But you’re wrong if you think you’re not an Air Nomad. You are, as much as your father or brother or sister. Guru Sinava said that our suffering is like a thistle. The tighter we hold it, the more it hurts us.”

She moved back slightly, still sniffling. “How do you know things like that?”

“I’ve read a lot of books. There wasn’t much else to do in my house,” she said with a small, lopsided grin. Jinora moved back and turned her gaze back to the water.

“Never mind. There’s no way I can explain it to a nonbender. You missed the ferry.”

“Yeah, I did. I’ll figure something out.” Korra moved toward the pier, but looked back. “Don’t lose yourself. Don’t let them win.”

Jinora did not respond, only squeezing her legs against her body, and Korra took the stairs down to the water. There were quite a few boats rolling on the waves, and she was sure no one would have minded her borrowing one, but jetting through the bay would save her the trouble of docking anything. It was certainly the more appealing option, and not likely to be noticed in the failing light.

“Korra. I didn’t realize you were still here.”

She looked back, where Tenzin was descending the steps. He had donned one of his nicer cloaks, with his Council pin fixed prominently in the collar. Korra frowned. While she had formed some quiet respect for Tenzin the Air Nomad, she knew that Tenzin the Councilor was still part of the government she had sworn to take apart.

“I left during the meditation, I didn’t want to interrupt. The ferry already left, I was hoping I could borrow one of these boats.”

Tenzin nodded, hopping into one of the smaller crafts. “Let me give you a lift back. There’s a Council meeting I have to attend, some kind of demonstration from Future Industries.”

“Thank you,” Korra said, stepping off the dock while he got the engine going. “I was talking with Jinora before. She seems…in a bad way, Master Tenzin.”

His expression dropped as they pulled out into the bay. “I wish I knew what to do to help her. Her mother and I can hardly get two words out of her, and that’s a good day. Now with this new Equalist attack recently she’s gotten even worse. She hides away from everyone, she barely eats, and she’s terrified of going to the mainland. I love my daughter. I just wish I knew how to make her feel better.”

Korra looked at him, studying the sadness etched into the lines of his face. It hardly seemed like it would make things better for anyone to rip him away from a girl who so badly needed her family, but she shook her head and tried to set the thought aside. She was thinking too small, she reminded herself. As the Avatar her duty was to everyone, they told her, and not one child. Tenzin was still a leader, and leaders no longer had a place in the world she wanted to create.

“Did you see anything useful today?” he asked, itching to change the subject.

“Yes, I did. Your modified sutras were very interesting, they reminded me of Guru Taraan’s teachings. And was that southern-style airbending your children were practicing?”

A small smile grew on his face, obscured by his beard. “It’s amazing how well-versed you already are, Korra. You might make a good acolyte.”

The thought of living under a system, even one as detached and freedom-oriented as that, threatened to turn her stomach, but she only shrugged. “I had a very passionate teacher. And if there was an Air Nomad book that survived the war, I read it.”

“I’m glad the world hasn’t forgotten about us. Would you be able to send me a copy of your research when you complete it? I would be honored to add it to the library.”

Guilt shot through her in hot, sharp pangs. “Of course, Tenzin.”

They pulled up to the same dock where Korra’s boat was anchored, allowing her to take one large step across the pier and land on the deck of her cruiser before Tenzin had even cut the engine.

“Thanks for the ride!”

“Is that where you’re staying?” he asked. Korra nodded as she put down her bag. “We could find a room for you on the island, you know. Something that doesn’t rock in a storm.”

“No, thanks.” She jumped and climbed onto the top of the bridge in a single fluid motion to straighten an antenna blown about in the rain from the previous night. “I like my privacy.”

Tenzin secured his boat and went up the boardwalk, and they waved goodbye before Korra stepped back down to the deck. Her shoulders ached in pleasant relief from finally dropping her bag, but she had no time to enjoy it. She picked it back up and went below deck, where she could disappear for a little while. With a flick of her fingers the candle beside the stairs sprang to life, and she opened the main compartment of her backpack. Korra tossed her notebook aside, making a note to herself to study the sketches later, and pulled out her armor.

It was a tight fabric weave, dyed a deep carmine that clung to her body and fit beneath her jacket and pants. Two water skins, one above each hip, were already full, and strips of metal on the forearms could be easily sheared off or reshaped as she needed. Tightly spooled cables also hung from her hips, but her experience with them was minimal, and she doubted she would need them. Small ceramic discs were woven in over all the best spots for a chi blocker to strike, and a bit of fabric on the neck pulled up easily to serve as a mask.

Slowly, carefully, Korra stripped down and laid her clothes in a pile beside her before slipping on the armor. The slight compression on her legs and chest was a relief, and the added weight behind her motions made her feel secure. She had no rush as long as the sun was still out, and she tested the armor instead of putting her clothes on over it right away. A firm tap was all she needed to release the caps on the water skins, and the metal split off in thin strips without difficulty. Korra quickly extended her right arm, and the metal swung out first as a baton, and then as a blade as she narrowed the edges.

“Good,” she said, dulling the blade and sliding it back into place on her forearm. There had been precious few opportunities to metalbend with anything in their home, and even fewer to learn. Ghazan could only teach her the theory, but combined with scrolls from a place called Zaofu, she had learned eventually. It was the only time she was free to practice on her own, and she relished every moment she spent with the small amount of metal they provided her.

The sheath of her knife fit snugly between her armor and her boot, and the rest of her clothes hung well over the weave. Korra tried moving around, practicing some of her basic firebending forms without focusing enough to actually create a flame. She found she needed only a little extra effort to move properly, and with quick, easy motions she could make enough space to draw water or retrieve the metal without damaging her jacket.

Korra stowed her bag under the stairs up to the deck, pausing only to pick something to read, a simple choice between her poetry book and a map of the city. She settled on the map; she had heard more than enough Air Nomad wisdom for the day already. Once she got her bearings and oriented the map properly, Korra traced routes from the docks to City Hall with her finger, lazily plotting her course with one hand and shaping the metal on her forearm with the other. Her thoughts drifted, and more than once she found herself shaking her way out of the memory of sitting and talking and laughing with Asami.

When night finally fell, and the full moon hung high in the sky, Korra climbed up onto the deck. She took a quick look around the dock and the boardwalk, and saw both were empty. Tenzin’s boat still rocked with the waves, but he was nowhere to be seen. She moved slowly up to the boardwalk, padding along from shadow to shadow before disappearing into an alley.

The map was still brightly visible in her mind, and she followed the route she had settled on. A turn here, hopping a fence there…getting back to an actual street almost threw her for a loop, and she felt several pairs of eyes turn on her after climbing out of an overflow ditch. Korra stared hard at the ground and melted into the foot traffic, shifting her weight between her feet as she waited at a crosswalk.

_Peace, and order…_

“Shut up,” she said, louder than she intended. A few people looked at her for a moment, but went back to waiting for the traffic to stop. _Why did the voice have to start talking now_ , she thought.

Soon the people on the larger roads drifted away, and she was back on the side streets and in the alleys again, ambling along until she reached the end of an alley. It opened onto an enormous plaza, and beyond that stood one of the largest buildings she had yet to see, one that she knew well from all the newspapers and photographs she had studied.

“City Hall.”

Republic City’s own den of iniquity stood before her, mocking in all its opulence. The building stood slightly isolated from its neighbors on its other sides, and the thought briefly crossed her mind to encircle it with lava. Melting the earth from so far away wasn’t possible, though, and the guards slowly patrolling would have noticed her even at the edge of her range.

Korra moved along the edge of the plaza, mercifully deserted—almost. A guard with a flashlight was making her rounds through one of the paths in the plaza, and Korra ducked into another alley between two high rise buildings. She stepped into the shadows, nearly silent, until she backed right into someone.

“Sorry about that,” she said automatically, straightening up and turning around. Five men were there, shooting dice against the wall. The one she backed into had a small flame in his hand to illuminate the dice, but turned it toward her along with their gazes.

“No worries—” he began, stopping suddenly to look her over. His head cocked slightly and he leaned toward her, making Korra take a step back as he did. He held the flame up to shine on her, and her eyes narrowed from the brightness. “Who did Mako say got him on the docks?”

Korra’s hand clenched.

“Some Water Tribe girl with short hair,” one of the men said. “Maybe one of Sato’s goons.”

“Well…no one beats on the boss and walks away.”

She shrugged. “I did.”

Her admission seemed to surprise them, but only momentarily. One of the men pulled up the water from a puddle under a rainspout, another slammed his boot on the ground to rip up a chunk of earth, and the fourth had embers dancing around his fingers. The fifth was already at the end of the alley and slipping out of sight. Korra looked up at the sky, her eyes fixing on the full moon visible high above them. “Walk away,” she said.

The man she bumped into wound his arm back to throw a punch, but Korra dropped until her hands were on the ground and swept his legs out from under him. He fell on his rear, and Korra pounced, her hands coming down hard on his shoulders and her knee on his stomach. His arms gave out, leaving him limp on the ground. The remaining three looked at one another, but Korra was already rushing the earthbender. It had been too long without a good spar, and she wouldn’t miss the chance to cut loose.

She spun on her heel to avoid the chunk of rock, and as she pivoted saw it breaking into smaller pieces and come back toward her. Korra rooted herself to the ground, slamming her boot onto one of the earthbender’s feet as she did, and wrested control of the rocks from him. She ducked, making a minimum of motion with her hands, and let the earth fly into him, peppering his face and torso with the jagged little stones. He staggered back and fell, clawing at his face and eyes were the rocks had struck.

The second firebender was next. He at least had the good sense to back up and give himself space to bend, not that it would help him. Fire followed his kicks, flowing out in a frenzy and lighting up the entire alley. Her sleeves caught the brunt of the flame, singing the cuffs slightly, and she subtly snuffed out the rest. Korra jammed the heel of her hand just below his ribs and hooked her boot behind his foot, tripping him when he fell back. She descended on him, throwing jabs much more roughly than she needed to block his chi.

Korra couldn’t help but smile as she stood back up and advanced on the waterbender. The surge of adrenaline was intoxicating, and the slight, sweet ache in her muscles, working harder than usual to move her armor about, made her yearn for more. She let out a shuddering breath and took in a gulp of fresh air as she moved.

Abandoning his water and breaking for the far end of the alley was the smartest thing any of them had done, but Korra wasn’t finished. She closed her eyes and let herself sense all the water nearby. There were the water skins, fastened securely to her sides, the forgotten puddle, left by the rainspout…and the bodies. Three behind her, and one running. He was as far away as she could manage to bloodbend, but she held herself back. The waterbender made it to the end of the alley, gesturing wildly toward the street.

“Go ahead! Run!” she shouted after him. “It won’t save you!”

“That’s her!”

⁂

“Thank you all for coming tonight.”

The Council chamber was rather opulent, even by Asami’s standards. Three massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, adorned in white gold and glittering crystal that sent the light dancing all over the walls. Gold inlay ran along the alabaster floors, and thick pillars flanking the walls stretched up to the second floor. The actual Council table was a deep, black granite, emblazoned with the symbol of the United Republic on the front. Bolin sat between Tenzin at the end of the table and Izana in the center, subtly concealing his position as the Council chair, and Sani and Kula, the Water Tribe representatives, sat on her other side. Chief Beifong and her security detail stood by the back wall, watching silently.

Asami stood on the opposite side of the slightly arched table with Fù behind her, holding their new toys tightly in his hand. “What I have to demonstrate here for you tonight will help stem the tide of triad activity in the city, which the police have unfortunately been unable to deal with until now.”

Lin scowled, but said nothing, while Izana and Tenzin looked on with interest.

“So what is it, Asami?” Bolin asked. “A crime detector?”

“Not quite, that part is still up to our police force. This is a pacification and crowd control device. One we’ve fine-tuned for a special effect against bending criminals. I could go on and on about the specifics, but I think a demonstration would be much more practical. Does anyone not mind parting with their bending for about an hour?” she asked.

Izana leaned back in her chair. “Lin, did you bring any officers you don’t like very much?”

The cops behind the Council shifted uncomfortably. “No, Councilor,” she said, going around the table toward Asami. “You can do it to me, Sato.”

“How very noble of you, Chief.” Fù handed her one of the stripped-down shock gloves, little more than a power source and straps to hold it in place on her palm. “It comes on and off quickly, folds up for compact storage, and a dial here adjusts the power setting.”

“What powers it?” Sani asked.

“Small spirit vines, harvested from a swamp in the Earth Kingdom. Even at this minimal power setting, it can overload a person’s chi paths and stop earthbending, waterbending, and firebending.”

Bolin spoke up. “Not airbending?”

“There was no opportunity to test that, for obvious reasons.” Asami strapped the device onto her palm. “We trusted that the world’s three airbenders wouldn’t turn to crime.”

“Are you and your kids going to be good, Tenzin?” Bolin asked, nudging him with his elbow. Tenzin pursed his lips.

“We can only hope,” Asami said with a slight smile. “Anyway. Chief Beifong, if you’d bend something, please?”

Lin released one of the metal cables under her wrist, shaping it so that from where Asami stood, it resembled the figure for _equal_. Asami gritted her teeth, took a quick step up to Lin, and caught her in the side her with palm, glowing in a flash of violet. The cable fell limp to the ground as Lin doubled over, stumbling back until one of her officers caught her.

“What…what did you do to me?” she asked, fighting for breath.

“Don’t worry, you’ll stop feeling winded in about a minute, and your bending will come back in an hour or so.” Asami turned back to the Council. “It works through armor too, as you can see. At a more regular power setting, someone’s chi paths can be blocked for several days.”

“And these vines aren’t volatile?” Tenzin asked. “They don’t cause any lasting damage? Lin, are you okay?”

She was standing on her own again, having pushed away her lieutenant, and was staring daggers at Asami. “I’m fine, Tenzin.”

“I would be happy to send the research we have to the island, Councilor,” Asami said.

They had more questions, and she easily talked around any answers she didn’t have, keeping them in good spirits while continuing to trade glares with Beifong.

“I think that should be enough for tonight,” Bolin finally said after stifling his third yawn. He tapped his gavel on the table twice without waiting to make a motion, but none of the others objected. Tenzin and Lin left with her officers, Sani and Kula returned to their offices, and Izana took her leave after clearing up her papers on the table. Bolin got up while Asami and Fù put away the shock gloves.

“So, was that a demonstration, or a warning?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I have no idea what you mean, Councilor.”

“Of course not. Is this what had Mako and the Lion Vultures out of commission for days?”

Asami stepped slowly up to the table and faced him, looking down slightly to maintain eye contact. “I wouldn’t know about the Lion Vultures, I don’t really follow pro-bending. As for Mako…he really shouldn’t break into other people’s warehouses. There could be all sorts of dangerous things inside.”

“Clearly.”

“If there’s nothing else, Councilor…?”

“Lin’s going to kill you, you know.”

“She’s tried before. Maybe she knew it was me. Of course, she didn’t realize how conductive those metal cables were, or how much of a charge a shock glove has.”

He shook his head and smiled despite himself. “Goodnight, Asami.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](http://avatar.wikia.com/wiki/File:Equalists_icon.png) is the symbol for _equal_ , if you were wondering.


	5. Turning the Tides

“I think that went well.” 

“Still seems like an unnecessary risk,” Fù said as they walked through the City Hall rotunda. It was empty, save for a few bored guards at their post, and their only other company were the statues set into alcoves around them. “The earthbender had a point. That seemed more like a warning to the police when we should be focusing on the triads first. They’re the ones breaking into our warehouses to get these things, and Beifong’s no fool. That cable trick wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Yes, and wouldn’t it be a terrible shame if some triads very publicly stole our weaponry?” Asami asked. “It’s almost as if the people would rally against them.”

“That’s an enormous chance to take on speculation. Not to mention it involves letting them get their hands on these.”

They strode out of the building and toward the deserted plaza, cutting through to get back to their car on the next street. “What good will it do them if they don’t know how to use the vines? They’ve got their bending, anyway, it’s not like…do you hear that?”

Fù stopped in his tracks, taking in the ambient sound. There were cars, braking and honking their horns; cat owls, hooting and hiding in the trees nearby; fighting, someone shouting and the dull roar of—

“Firebending,” he said, but Asami was already running toward the source of the noise, leaving him behind with all of their shock gloves. “Wait up!”

He went after her, fumbling with the straps of one shock glove in the low light from the lamps in the plaza. Flashes burst from an alley, and as they got closer the sounds of whipping water and breaking stone reached them as well. “Sato! Take a glove!”

Asami turned on her heel, jogging backwards just long enough to catch the mess of straps Fù tossed to her, and then about-faced again while she deftly ran the bands over her hand and wrist. The glove crackled violet at her touch, and with her free hand Asami pulled up the fabric of her collar to hide the lower half of her face.

She burst into the alley, looking for the fight, but she nearly lost her balance when she stopped dead and saw the scene. The ground was ripped up, scorch marks lined the walls, and water had pooled all around the rainspouts. Several bodies already laid unconscious around them, bruised and dazed. A half dozen benders were congregated on the far side of the alley, focusing their attacks two or three at a time on a single figure. They whipped back and forth in a flurry of motion, weaving around the attacks and working in their own counters when the benders left an opening.

Fù caught up with her and got the last strap in place on his wrist. It wasn’t his kali sticks, but it would do. They watched for a moment, looking for a way around to the benders, but the one fighter was doing a fine job of holding them at bay already. A bit of the water on the ground shot up, freezing and turning toward the fighter’s back.

“Hey, look out!”

They turned around, and Asami could feel the pit forming in her stomach. Blue eyes locked with hers, and for an instant everything dropped away. Her free hand balled into a fist, and energy hummed in her shock glove.

“Korra—?”

The block of ice struck her on the side of the head, throwing her off-balance. An earthbender twisted the ground under her feet, and another hit her with a section of the alley wall. Korra looked back at Asami, her eyes glassing over, and then fell motionless to the ground.

“Get her clear,” she yelled to Fù as she ran at one of the earthbenders. Another section of wall flew at her, but she was ready. Asami dropped to a couch, letting the bricks go right over her, and sprung forward, grabbing the earthbender’s fingers with her free hand. She bent them back until he cried out, and she jammed her shock glove into his throat and squeezed to stop his howling. His pained gasps devolved into incoherent gurgling, and she shoved him aside and into the wall.

Fù had gotten Korra out of the alley and propped her up against one of the trees at the edge of the plaza, and with her safe he jumped back into the fray. Asami had a waterbender in an armlock, and he tackled another assailant before jabbing his shoulder and pressing his own shock glove into the man’s ribs. He and the waterbender went down, leaving the rest slowly backing away.

“Can’t handle a fairer fight?” Asami asked, still shaking with anger. One bender at the back broke away and ran toward the street. The last two traded glances, but had no chance to mount another attack. Asami and Fù moved as a single unit, taking a running start and throwing their weight into a pair of flying kicks. In the span of a few seconds, boots crashed into ribs, taking the wind out of the benders and putting them on the ground. One hit his head on the ground and went out almost immediately, while the other lay there for a moment, dazed and struggling for breath.

Asami left Fù to deal with him while she rushed back to the plaza, almost falling to her knees when she got to Korra to check on her. She had put up a good fight, but the signs of the scuffle were all too clear. A cut above her left eye was beginning to heal, a splotchy bruise on her jaw where the ice hit her was forming, and a thin line of dried blood trickled from her mouth to her chin.

“What were you doing out here, you fool,” she said under her breath, lightly stroking Korra’s cheek as she did. Asami put one arm under Korra’s knees and the other around her back to pick her up, and Fù returned as she got to her feet. “We should get off the streets. Is there anywhere to put the benders? I’m not done with them.”

“There’s the safe house under the bookstore nearby,” he said, turning off his shock glove. “We can get people to move them quietly if we hurry.”

⁂

“That little—argh!”

Lin’s thoughts devolved into incoherence as they turned onto the docks. Tenzin watched her with sidelong glances, and despite her insistence, she was not fine. Every few steps her foot would come down slightly too hard, leaving her stumbling. Beads of sweat trickled down the side of her face, and the vein in her temple seemed dangerously close to popping.

“In fairness, you did volunteer, Lin. And that thing with the cable was unnecessary.”

“Don’t give me that! You wait, she’s going to field that thing on every Equalist in the city. Everyone knows exactly who’s going to benefit from this, and you’re asking about the _research_ ,” she spat back.

“What would you have had me ask? ‘These are lovely, Asami, how do you plan to retrofit the Equalist shock gloves with them?’ We can’t bandy about those kinds of accusations without proof,” Tenzin said as they went along the boardwalk.

“That girl could walk in after holding a rally and you’d call it circumstantial. All because she does the Air Temple Island maintenance at cost.”

He bristled. “You’re talking to your boss, you know.”

Lin continued without acknowledging him. “Not that you could run her in on anything, she singlehandedly funded the rest of the Council. They’d let her take over the city before they lifted a finger, and she’s doing exactly that.”

They stopped under a light shining on the entrance to a warehouse. “How much of this anger should I discount because you haven’t gotten your bending back yet?”

She grimaced, but then shrugged. “Twenty percent.”

“I figured. My boat is right over there.”

Tenzin turned onto the pier, and Lin looked incredulously at the pocket cruiser across from his boat. “How can that bucket of bolts even stay afloat?”

“I’m not sure. The owner is doing some observations on the island, maybe I’ll ask her. Korra. Nice girl.”

Lin cocked an eyebrow.

“Not that Korra. I don’t think she’s even a bender. She managed to get more than a few words out of Jinora, though, so she’s welcome to stay as long as she likes. And no, you are not giving her a citation over the state of her boat. I’m pulling rank here.”

“How is Jinora?” Lin asked, the edge gone from her voice. Tenzin sighed and looked out onto the bay, toward Air Temple Island, where a few pinpricks of light still gleamed in the darkness.

“Still struggling. It’s as if she doesn’t know who she is anymore. We’ve…we’ve tried everything, Lin. Meditation, acupuncture, healers. It’s not coming back, and she knows it. I can’t say I don’t feel a little guilty for not encouraging her to have a life outside of airbending.” His shoulders slumped slightly. “I feel guilty for a lot of things.”

She put her arms around him in the closest thing she could manage to a hug. Memories of their relationship came flooding back for both of them, and Tenzin returned her hug, not quite chaste, not quite romantic. Lin wanted to melt into the folds of his cloak, only to be brought back to reality when he spoke.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

They parted, however unwillingly, and Lin was grateful the darkness hid the rising color in her cheeks. “No, you’re right. Go hug your daughter, Councilor. Tell her…tell her she can come talk to me anytime.”

His beard half-hid his sad smile. “If there was any way to get her back on the mainland again, I’m sure she would. Goodnight, Lin.”

⁂

Everything was dark, and warm. She liked feeling warm. When she sparred and ran through her firebending forms with P’Li, especially on cold days, she would let the flames get dangerously close. They would singe the wraps on her arms and sometimes her clothes, much to P’Li’s annoyance. Although she never could tell if that was because she wasn’t training properly or because it meant P’Li would have to sew her clothes up again or make new ones entirely. She liked it better when they would sit against the side of the house at night, talking about anything and everything while passing a fireball back and forth and picking out constellations. Sometimes Ming-Hua would join them, leaving her firebending with one hand and waterbending with the other while they sat and talked. It was dark and warm then, too.

Korra groaned and a deep, painful ache shot out from her jaw. It felt as if her face was about to fall apart until the pain subsided, and even then a throb would radiate out every few seconds when she drew breath. She tried turning on her side into a recovery position, but something held her back. A warm, moist cloth dabbed at the stinging sensation over her eyebrow, and a soothing, breathy voice from far away said something that was lost in the ringing in her ears.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, snapping them shut almost immediately when the harsh light overhead flooded in. There was a figure sitting over her, but it had been too quick to make out details. Another cloth rested under her head and absorbed the water trickling down the side of her face, and along with it she felt soft, warm, delicate fingers brushing lightly over her skin.

Korra tried again, cracking her eyelids the smallest amount. The light assaulted her once more, but with such a narrow opening the pain subsided, and she could open her eyes more and adjust to her surroundings. Solid stone walls. High, long windows. Thick rafters running overhead. She was in a basement.

“Welcome back.”

The shooting pain in her jaw told her she had tried to turn her head too quickly. Korra winced, and all at once a bag of ice found the side of her face, held gently so as not to apply any undue pressure to the bruise that she was sure had to be on her cheek.

“Careful. You took a few good hits. Not that you didn’t put up an amazing fight beforehand.”

Familiarity tinged the voice, and once her eyes adjusted the figure came into sharper focus. Black hair hanging in soft waves. Bright green eyes, warm and concerned. Tingles ran through Korra’s body.

“Asami,” she said, fighting through the pain in her jaw. Korra’s hand found hers, weaving her fingers in between Asami’s over the bag of ice. The numbing action was sweet relief, a decent substitute for the proper healing her jaw would need later. “Where?” she asked. It was all she could manage.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe. This is one of our quiet spots,” Asami said, putting the cloth down and running her fingers through Korra’s hair. “And when you can get more than two words out you’re going to tell me what you were doing there tonight, picking fights with triads. I admire your dedication, don’t get me wrong, but that was bordering on suicidal.”

“Wasn’t my goal.” Korra sat up, taking the bag of ice and holding it herself. Asami frowned, wanting to put her back on the cot, but there was nothing more to do but wait for her to heal. “How’d you find me?”

“Fù and I heard fighting, and there you were, weaving around every bit of bending they threw at you.” Asami’s cheeks flushed a light pink. _Cute_ , Korra thought. “Sorry about distracting you.”

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “We can take care of ourselves with the same chi blocking you use. How bad does your face hurt?”

“Like my jaw’s about to fall off,” Korra said, the words slurring in her mouth as she held the bag of ice against her skin. As subtly as she could manage, she melted some of the ice and let it radiate over her jawline, helping to mend whatever had been torn.

With the pain beginning to subside, she looked more closely at Asami’s clothing. It was a dull gray, snug but not tight, and covered her from the neck down, although she had removed her gloves and left them at the foot of the cot. More like it hung from hooks on the far wall, and on a shelf above them sat masks, featureless but for a simple brass breathing tube and a built-in pair of green goggles. Asami’s outfit had one distinct feature from the spares on the wall: shoulder pads, flat red with a symbol emblazoned on each. If the uniform wasn’t telling enough, the symbol was.

 _Equal_.

Korra felt her stomach drop. Equalists. She opened her mouth to speak, but Asami put a finger over her lips and dabbed the cloth at her eyebrow again. “At least this is kind of a flattering place to get a scar,” she said, easing closer to the cot from her chair. Korra’s own lips were still bruised and bloodied, but Asami’s, hovering inches away, were soft and undamaged, colored a cherry red that made them stand out against the paleness of her skin. Korra could hear her own heart beating, feel the unsteadiness in her breath. She began to lean forward—

The building shook, throwing them both off balance. Asami fell out of her chair, the back of it jutting into her neck on the way down, and Korra’s elbow hit the frame of her cot, sending a shock up her arm, through the bag of ice, and into her jaw. Pain ripped through her head again, sending her thoughts swimming and putting her on the brink of unconsciousness before she recovered.

“What was that?”

“Stay here,” Asami said, donning her gloves and rushing to the door. She cracked it open and peered through before disappearing, and Korra got herself up off the cot to follow her. The bag of ice lay forgotten on the floor, and a painful _pop_ in her hip told Korra she was moving entirely too fast. _How many hits did I take?_

Holding the door frame for support, Korra looked into the next room. Several men, the ones she had fought, were tied to chairs against one wall, watched by a masked Equalist with a pair of kali sticks that radiated a dim purple glow. He looked over and nodded at her before turning to Asami. “Any ideas?”

She listened at a sturdier metal door, and Korra slammed her heel into the ground as she closed her eyes. A tunnel. People, some making a hard press toward them, some standing in their way. She could see seven, but it grew fuzzier any farther away. But they were bending. Some of them were tearing off chunks of the tunnel walls, some were in waterbending forms, and there was at least a single firebender. He took up a stance, but it was…wrong, wrong for proper firebending. The hairs on the back of her neck began to rise.

“Get away from the door!”

Asami looked back at Korra, but could say nothing before the metal went live. Her gloves insulated her, but it still made her hair stand on end as she staggered back. A massive rock flew through the door, blowing it off its hinges and knocking Asami roughly against the wall. She blinked rapidly for a moment, her head drifting from side to side, and then went still.

The benders spilled into the basement, almost running over one another to get through the small doorway. Seven, like Korra originally saw: three earthbenders, three waterbenders, and a lone firebender. A few of them she dimly recognized from the second fight in the alley, but the firebender’s face stuck out in her mind, in her memory of arriving in Republic City.

“Good evening,” he said sardonically.

Across the room, the remaining Equalist sidestepped the boulder and turned his kali sticks on the intruders, but his weapons were useless at range. One of the waterbenders emptied the skins on her hip and struck him mid-stride, freezing the water right before impact. Korra heard the sickening _snap_ of a rib, and the remaining water froze around the Equalist as he fell, pinning him to the ground.

It was all over in only a few seconds, faster than Korra could push herself off the door frame and stumble into the main room. She caught Mako’s eye, and he grimaced slightly as he turned to her.

“Water Tribe.”

“You again— _ah_!”

Korra’s hand shot to her side, fighting the feeling of a hot knife digging into her hip. She must have gone down harder than she thought. The triads stayed at the ready, but none of them seemed particularly concerned as long as she was across the room. Mako still eyed her carefully, opening and closing his hand while sparks danced around his fingers, but turned to the benders tied up in their chairs.

“Shen, Kija, go help them.” Mako straightened the scarf hanging around his neck. “I figured you were one of Sato’s people, Water Tribe. That’s their chi blocking style.”

“My name is Korra,” she said, venom in her voice.

“Not _that_ Korra…no. It’s too bad you’re not a bender.” Mako stepped over the door lying on the ground. “They said you took out at least a dozen people. You’re a one woman army. Shen?”

“They’re fine, boss,” the earthbender said as she cut the last triad free. Korra noticed the marks on their arms, bruises shaped like kali sticks. They were not anything she had done. “Might not have their bending for a few days, but they’re still breathing.”

“Bana, get them patched up as best you can. So much for our ceasefire, right Asami?” Mako asked, striding over to where she had fallen.

Something in Korra snapped, and she felt as if she were watching herself from across the room. Her jaw clenched, her foot shot out so she could take a lower stance, and she didn’t care who saw her.

“Get away from her!”

One hand tightened into a fist, and she threw a punch toward Mako, expecting a blast of flame to come hurtling out, but it wasn’t fire.

It was air.

The space between them distorted in a violent rush of wind, picking Mako up off his feet and sending him into the wall. He looked back at her as he recovered, bright red blood falling from his nose where he had hit the wall, and pointed to her while mouthing silent words. The triads took up their stances, but Korra was already sending another attack, moving by rote through the airbending forms once the surprise wore off.

Pain coursed through her with every motion, but it was dull and far away. One stream of air shot out, and then another, tossing the triads around the room like rag dolls. She operated on instinct and adrenaline, hurling bursts of air without realizing what she was doing.

When it subsided, all the aches rushed back, redoubled by her outburst. The triads were all collapsed around the basement, stirring and groaning after being pummeled. Korra limped over to where Mako lay, beside Asami, and picked him up by his collar, shoving him up against the wall with one hand while the other balled into a fist and a dagger of fire burst from one end.

“You know who I am.” It wasn’t a question.

“You’re the Avatar,” he said thickly, speaking through his nosebleed. “And I’m an idiot.”

“Both are true.” Korra dropped him, letting Mako crumple on the floor, and before he blacked out he saw her carrying Asami away.


	6. The Aftermath

“Damn triads.”

Korra winced, moving a handful of water over the side of her face to mend her jaw. It was helping, but it wasn’t nearly as effective as having someone else do it. Ming-Hua had never taught her a great deal of healing, preferring to focus on combat forms and leaving Korra to study healing scrolls on her own.

Asami’s injuries had been simple, a bit of singing on her fingertips and a cut or two on her scalp, and now she was resting on Korra’s bedroll below deck. Korra’s hip and jaw were healed enough to allow her to walk and talk without pain, but she would need to visit a healer to finish the process.

She sighed and rubbed her shoulder with her free hand. With her armor neatly tucked away under the stairs leading up to the deck, she was fully mobile again, for all the good it did her. She had inspected herself in the mirror, and she had taken more of a beating than she originally thought. In addition to the large, swelling bruise taking up most of the right side of her face, the entire right side of her body was a canvas of splotching purple. Welts had formed on her arm and side where chunks of earth struck her, and her hip and leg were no better. Her armor had done its job, preventing any broken bones and providing enough compression to allow her to work through the pain, but without it she had struggled to stay standing long enough to heal the worst of the bruising.

With a flick of her wrist, the water in her hand snaked back to the container by her armor. She debated changing the wraps on her chest and arms, but decided against it until she could get to a healer. Instead she put her clothes back on, gingerly easing into the pants and jacket to avoid her remaining bruises, and planted herself beside her bedroll.

Asami’s face had turned to a frown, and she continually twisted from side to side. She had slipped from unconsciousness to sleep at some point during the night, and then into a nightmare. Korra knew the signs well. P’Li would have them until Korra or Ming-Hua woke her up, and she had her own, visions of the fire that had engulfed her home and her parents.

Korra gently ran her hand through Asami’s hair, and the bit of contact seemed to assuage her after a few minutes. She turned toward Korra’s hand, reaching up for it with her own. Her gloves were folded up near the bedroll, removed so Korra could heal her burn blisters, and she found Korra’s hand, lacing up their fingers as she did. Heat built up in her face and neck as Asami nuzzled her hand, pulling it down protectively toward her collar. She turned on her side, exposing one shoulder pad and making Korra frown.

Equalists. There she was, the Avatar, having dragged away, healed and sheltered an anti-bender for the better part of the night. Light was beginning to filter down to the boat’s hold, and she was still worried sick that Asami hadn’t yet woken up, to say nothing of what Asami would think of her if she caught Korra bending. Dark, heavy feelings of self-loathing filled her at the thought.

“Why did it have to be you,” she murmured.

So preoccupied was she with Asami that she had not had the time to reflect on her airbending. As badly injured as she was, she would not have been able to properly walk the Bagua circle, or do much of anything with it now that she wasn’t running on adrenaline. Her heart had finally stopped racing, and her eyelids were growing heavier with every passing moment, crying out in protest over the night of lost sleep.

“Please wake up, Asami.” Korra stroked the outline of her collarbones under her uniform. “Please.”

“Korra…?”

Her breath caught in her throat, and seeing Asami come to and meet her gaze sent her heart racing again. Asami sat up, throwing her arms around Korra and letting her head settle into the crook of her neck. Dull ache radiated from where Asami’s head bumped her jaw, but she thought nothing of it, returning the hug as she shook with relief. Neither of them moved for several minutes, and all they could hear was their own ragged breathing and the waves lapping on the hull of the boat.

“Are you okay?” Korra finally asked, remembering to breathe and taking in the light, fresh scent of Asami’s hair. Soft, delicate fingers stroked Korra’s back through the fabric of her jacket, and she shuddered. The rush of relief in her heart shut out everything else, and for the time being there was nothing outside of the hold of her boat.

They dislodged from one another and Korra sat back slightly, the worry slowly fading from her face. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Asami said, leaning on one hand. “My head is still ringing, but I’m fine. This seems awfully familiar. I think I prefer being the one not waking up in a daze, though. What happened? I remember the door coming off its hinges…nothing after.”

“Mako and his people busted in. He shocked the door, but your gloves took most of the damage.”

Asami nodded, examining the bruise on Korra’s face as she did. “He came back for his people. They take care of their own, I’ll give them that. Where are we?”

“My boat. I wasn’t sure where else I could take you in that getup,” Korra said.

“What about Fù? Is he okay?”

“The guy with the sticks? The triads took him down, but I went back and got him once I got you out of the building.” Korra nodded to a bag near the end of the bedroll. “He dropped off some clothes for you about an hour ago and asked me to tell you that they cleared everything out of that safe house.”

A wave rocked the cruiser, and Asami gave a heavy sigh. “Did he help you fight some of them?”

“No, they got him right after you. It was seven on one, there wasn’t time for him to do anything.”

“So you took down seven triads by yourself, injured?”

Korra shifted uncomfortably and avoided Asami’s gaze. With her worry abated, she wanted to tell someone, anyone, that she had finally managed to airbend, but Asami did not seem like the most receptive audience. There was really no one to tell, she knew. Tenzin would know who she was, and Zaheer was likely half a world away. It seemed like the only person who would know was Mako.

“I had to get you out of there,” Korra said with feigned casualness and a shrug. “Anger is a great anesthetic.”

Asami smiled and stroked Korra’s unbruised cheek, robbing her of whatever composure she had managed to build up. “Well, that’s twice you’ve helped me out of a jam now. At least we were even for a few minutes before they broke down my door. You’re pretty amazing, Korra.”

“I, uh, err…thanks, Asami.”

Every bit of her face that was not bruised went red, flushing under Asami’s words and touch. A lopsided grin grew on her lips, and Korra met Asami’s hand with her own, relishing in the coolness of her touch until she looked back at her uniform.

“You’re an Equalist,” Korra said, letting their hands drift down.

“Yes.” Asami pursed her lips and paused for a moment, and then said, “Well, it’s not that simple. I’m the leader of the Equalists.”

Korra managed to keep a straight face as she felt her world fall out from underneath her. It wasn’t enough that the girl she was growing attached to was an anti-bender, the universe had to make her their leader. A vise tightened around her chest, and she had to fight the urge to cry. “Oh,” she mumbled.

“It’s not something I wanted,” Asami said, resting against the hull. “The whole operation was in shambles, and Fù and some of the others rallied behind me to fill the power vacuum. I wish it had been someone else, I had a company to take over at the same time, but we needed someone to step up after we killed that bloodbending monster.”

The anger was thick in her voice, and Korra looked guiltily at her own hands.

“He killed my father. The only family I had left.” Her hand tightened into a fist on Korra’s lap.

“I’m sorry,” Korra said, feeling herself start to go numb again. She hugged Asami, half to feel her embrace again and half to hide the pain and turmoil betrayed by her expression. They desperately needed something else to talk about. “Can I ask you something? How come you were out tonight and found me fighting?”

“There was a demonstration I was making to the Council,” Asami said, resting in Korra’s arms. “Or a warning. Depends who you ask. Can I ask _you_ something? Why were you out there tonight? Or are you going to be picking fights with triads every time I see you?”

She leaned back, and Korra allowed herself a small smirk. “Are you going to be seeing me often?”

“I certainly hope so.”

Korra shifted again and pressed her legs together. Fire flared in her, and she risked losing her calm altogether. “I was taking a walk. I’ve seen pictures of City Hall, but I wanted to see it in person. Stepped into the wrong alley, I guess, and one of them recognized me from Mako’s description. They wouldn’t walk away like I asked, so fighting was the only option left. One of them ran off for help, and I was going through their backup when you arrived. The next thing I knew, I was waking up with you over me.”

“Sorry again about distracting you. I’m glad you could find it in yourself to forgive me and rescue me again,” she said through a grin. “My hero.”

“Well…I’ve read too many old stories to know better than to leave you behind. Way too many. I’ve read enough books for a thousand lifetimes. The hero always rescues the princess, I know that much.”

Korra caught the words as they were leaving and wanted to hide. She knew she was babbling, but Asami only playfully cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m the princess, then? This isn’t a story, you know.”

“You got knocked out, so given the context—I mean, not that I’m running around trying to save you or that you can’t take care of yourself, but, but…I’m going to stop talking now,” she said, her voice trailing into a mumble. Asami laughed.

“Don’t get yourself all flustered, I don’t mind being the princess for the right hero.” She looked up at the open hatch to the deck, where more sunlight was breaking through the early dawn. “What time is it?”

“A little past sunrise. You slept through the night.”

“And you didn’t?”

Korra shook her head. “I wanted to make sure I’d be able to tell you where you were when you came to. So I stayed up.”

“You’re too adorable…I have to get into the office, though.” Asami stood up and opened the bag Korra had indicated, taking out a change of clothes with one hand and unbuttoning her uniform with the other. Korra looked pointedly away as she undressed, focusing intently on her own boots and trying to ignore the sounds of clothing falling away. A hand rested on her shoulder, and when she turned back Asami was changed and holding out a stack of yuans.

“It looks like you’re healing really well already, but you should still go to a hospital and get yourself fixed up. I know my first aid was no substitute for a doctor.” Korra thanked her and pocketed the money while Asami stuffed her uniform into the now-empty bag. They went to the stairs, and Asami hugged her quickly once more. “Thank you again, Korra. Are you going to be here tonight around sunset? I thought I might bring dinner.”

Her heart felt as if it flipped upside down. They parted, but Korra wanted to bridge that distance again, feel the softness of Asami’s hair on her face, explore her soft, pale skin, her lips… _no. It’s hardly the time_. She shook her head clear. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“I’ll see you then.”

With a final look back and a smile, Asami ascended the stairs and left Korra alone in the hold. She heard Asami’s footsteps along the deck, and then silence as she jumped to the pier. Korra ran her hand through her hair and let a single tear roll down her cheek. Of all the people to care for, she thought. Of all the people to want to hold and protect and be close to, it had to be an anti-bender intent on establishing a new government in Republic City, her burden, her sin to atone for.

She laughed. The absurdity of it all was almost comical, and the dissonance threatened to make her head spin. Korra collapsed on her bedroll, curling up and taking a deep breath to catch the lingering scent of Asami’s shampoo. Tears burst through her resistance, and she finally let herself cry through the laughter.

⁂

“Kija, will you stay still?”

Mako turned Kija’s head forward once more before dabbing antiseptic at the cut on his temple. The waterbender had more cuts and bruises, but the one on his temple was the worst and their only available healer was out of commission. The sooner he stopped fidgeting and wincing at the mild sting, the sooner they could all go home and get an hour or two of desperately needed sleep.

“You don’t have to do this, boss. I’m fine, really.”

“No, you’re bleeding. Stay still.”

“But you’re bleeding too!”

Kija was right, he knew. For all the dried blood under his nose and around his mouth, there was still some trickling. It would stop soon, and his black eye looked worse than it felt. Mako ignored him and put down the antiseptic, eliciting a relieved sigh which turned into a yelp when Mako began threading a needle. “Hey, hey, what’s that for?”

“The stitches, and I swear if you don’t _stay still_ I’m going to knock you out and do it that way.”

With a slightly jumpy Kija watching, Mako rolled the tip of the needle between the tips of his fingers to heat it. “It should only need four or five. Close your eyes, hold onto the side of the chair, and if you don’t want a jagged scar, then don’t move.”

Kija did as he was told, gritting himself against the sting of the needle. The office went quiet as Mako worked, deftly weaving the sutures into place and working the thread through without damaging the surrounding skin. He tied off the remaining thread and laid a bandage over the wound.

“Done. See how much faster it goes without the squirming? Keep it clean, don’t pick at it and change the bandage every day. Next victim,” he said, turning to the row of chairs along the wall, where the rest of the ambush team sat. Kija mumbled his thanks and took the seat left empty by his sister, Bana, as she sat for her treatment. She gave Mako a small, dazed smile as she sat down. A tall, lithe city native, she had come over with Kija from the Red Monsoon triad during their last internal conflict. Her use in a fight was middling at best, but she was a fine healer, and unafraid to go onto the front lines with her brother.

“Careful, boss, all of this might make us start thinking you have a heart,” Shen said, holding a bag of ice to her shoulder. It was a poor pass at humor, but they had all been up much longer than they should have been, and he appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood.

“You’d better not, I have my reputation to protect.”

Mako suppressed a yawn and checked Bana’s vision. Her pupils were still dilated, and she was even more ready than him to fall asleep. He knew there was little he could do for her, and having her stay there with the others was mostly a pretense for keeping her awake. Mako reached into a desk drawer, retrieved his wallet, and tossed it to Kija.

“Go with her to the hospital. Tell them she has a concussion. If they ask, tell them someone on a motorbike clipped her stepping off the curb.”

He nodded and got Bana up from her chair, putting her arm over his shoulder as they walked out of the office. “Come on, sis.”

“I assume the rest of you will live?” Mako asked. Cheng, Xi and Shen all nodded. “Good. I think that’ll do it.”

“You should get some sleep,” Cheng said. “The sun’s already up.”

“Later. Once I see how the others are doing, and after I see someone on their way to work.”

“That was really airbending, wasn’t it, boss?” Shen asked.

She leaned forward with interest despite the ache in her back, and Mako went around to sit behind his desk. “That, or they had the worst draft in history.”

His joke didn’t land. “Yes, it was airbending. When she threw her fist out I thought it might have been firebending, or even one of the Equalists’ new toys, but that was wind that hit us. And _then_ she started firebending.”

“Are you sure?”

“She made a dagger.” He groaned, wishing he had more ice to put over his black eye. “I thought she was just some Water Tribe girl. She’s not. She’s someone who’s supposed to be dead, and she made me say so before she put me back into the wall.”

Mako spoke slowly, measuring his words, making his meaning perfectly clear. Above them, the overhead light buzzed, deafening in the silence that had fallen over the office. They all shifted in their seats, and Mako steepled his fingers.

“Avatar Korra.”


	7. Old Wounds

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Bolin rolled over in bed, tangling the phone cord around himself as he did. Early morning sunlight shone in through the curtains. He buried his face in his pillow to get away from it. His head pounded terribly, and he curled up tighter under the bed sheets. _Mornings_.

“Yes,” the voice on the phone said. “Do you?”

“Not really. The last thing I remember was that fourth round of baijiu and Zhu Li getting up on the table to dance.”

“And here I thought I was the overindulgent brother.”

“Is there a point to this, Mako? I feel like someone fixed a clamp around my head and you aren’t helping.”

Slowly, clumsily, Bolin unwrapped the phone cord from around his torso and sat up, going for the glass of water he had left himself on the nightstand hours before.

“It’s something big. Can’t get into it over the phone.”

“This had better not be another stock tip or anything like that, and if it is I don’t want to know about it. We came close enough to getting caught the last time, and you’re still on thin ice with Beifong after that Agni Kai massacre.”

He could almost see Mako scoffing. “Three people is hardly a massacre. It seemed worse than it was because there were a lot of pieces.”

“Already on the verge of throwing up, thank you.”

“Trust me, it’s bigger than that. Bigger than anything. Meet me in Huì Square once you drag yourself out of bed. Don’t forget that check, either.”

“I have delegates to meet with today!”

“Come see me first. You won’t regret it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He dropped the phone onto its hook and finished off the glass of water. _A morning with Mako and his exciting news_ , Bolin thought. The day was off to a great start already. He reached under the covers, retrieved a large pillow, and tossed it aside before getting up to make the bed. Parts of his vision were still blurry, and it felt as if someone was throwing rocks around inside his head, but he trudged into the shower all the same. Hot water beat down along his neck and broad back, welcome relief from the stiffness that built up from sleeping in a single position all night. His head was swimming after a few minutes under the showerhead, and he cut it off with a grumble.

“Never drinking again.”

Once he had dried himself off, he picked out his best suit, a rich brown jacket with a jade green shirt, and had another glass of water before heading out the door. He stuck himself with his Council pin as he went down the stairs to the sidewalk, but managed to suppress his wince. One of their drivers was waiting with his car at the curb, opening the rear door as he approached.

“Good morning, Councilor,” she said, ignoring all the signs of his hangover. At least she was professional about it. “Vice-Chairman Tenzin asked me to remind you of the meeting with the delegates from the Jīnshǔ province. He left some note cards on them with me, they’re in the back seat. There’s also a budget vote, and you’re scheduled to lead a tour of City Hall after that.”

Bolin nodded. “What was your name again?”

“Mei, sir.”

“I’ll let him know you did your due diligence, Mei. But I don’t need the car this morning, I’m going to walk. Hopefully the fresh are will do me some good.”

“Sir, the meeting is starting in half an hour. The Vice-Chairman was…very concerned about punctuality, more so than usual. The phrase ‘vitally important’ was thrown around quite a bit in the earlier briefing.”

“I’ll be fine. Head off and let them know I’ll be there before Tenzin has an aneurysm.”

The car pulled away from the curb, tiny diplomatic flags fluttering in the breeze. Bolin finally fixed his pin and started along the sidewalk, stopping every so often to shake hands or wave to someone calling his name. The wind helped the pounding in his head, but the recognition made him feel even better. His people, his streets, his city. A small smile grew on his face.

City Hall was only a short walk from his house, but Huì Square required a lengthy detour through the capital district and into a neighborhood that bumped up against an industrial park. He knew it well, but normally he would have no good reason to go anywhere near it. As he neared City Hall, most of the faces on the street became familiar, belonging to people that worked close to the Council. He made a few quick greetings to the ones whose names he remembered as they waited at a stoplight, when someone bumped into him, jostled by the crowd.

“Sorry.”

She backed up slightly, and Bolin looked over at her. He knew her from somewhere, a Water Tribe girl with strikingly blue eyes, turned away from the wind. Cute, even with her oddly short hair. It was still far too early in the morning for picking out memories, though.

“It’s fine. Do you work around here? I feel like we’ve met before.”

The girl looked down at his Council pin and nodded slowly. Her stance shifted, blading her body so that her side was facing him more than her front. “We met briefly on Air Temple Island last week, Councilor. I’m Korra.”

“That’s right. Sorry, I had a long night.” Korra turned to look at the traffic, and when she did Bolin saw a long, dark bruise that snaked from her jaw, down her neck, and out of sight beneath her jacket. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I had a long night, too.” She wavered back and forth on her heels before speaking again. “You wouldn’t happen to know any good healers, would you?”

“There’s one about half a block back that way, it’s a small white building. They’ll help you out.”

“Thank you.”

Korra receded from the waiting group as the light changed, and when Bolin looked again, she was gone. _Cute girl_ , he thought. He shrugged and blanched when he saw the clock on the front of a building across the street. Their meeting was looming ever closer. His pace picked up until he was about to hit a jog, running into the breeze, and the slow tinge of regret at not taking the car stung almost as much as his headache.

When he arrived, Huì Square was much as he remembered it from all their years panhandling near the street and sleeping under the monument at the center. His brother was there, leaning on one side of the monument, while several of his triads watched over him at a distance. He felt their eyes on him as he approached, but they were waved off. Bolin went up to his brother and noticed his black eye and the dried blood under his nose.

“Mako, you look like hell.”

“Good morning to you too, Bolin.”

“Seriously, what happened?” he asked, looking over Mako’s face. “Did you sneak into the zoo and try to wrestle a badgermole again?”

“I had a small disagreement with Asami.”

“This looks even worse than your breakup. Did she get you with some of that anti-bending stuff, too? She demonstrated it for us last night. Lin was ready to kill her.”

“No, it wasn’t her, Asami just happened to be there.”

“Then who?”

Mako took a look around to ensure they weren’t being listened to. “The Avatar.”

Bolin was silent for a moment, studying Mako’s furtive expression, then cocked an eyebrow. “They haven’t found the new Avatar, Mako. Are you saying some kid crossed in from the Earth Kingdom and beat you up?”

He smiled slightly, which only made Mako more serious. “They won’t find them because the last one is still alive. She tore through almost a dozen of my people with nothing but chi blocking, and then she started airbending and firebending. You do the math.”

“The last Water Tribe Avatar died, bro—”

“You’re not listening! She’s here, in Republic City, and she told me herself. I ran into her while I was getting my people back from Asami and her goons. They were…I don’t know, they might’ve been working together.”

His story was patently ridiculous, but he seemed so certain and spoke with such conviction that Bolin didn’t know what to make of it. “I think you hit your head a little too hard. Why would the Avatar be working with anti-benders? None of this makes sense!”

Mako struck the monument beside them. “I don’t know, okay? This all sounds crazy, but that was Avatar Korra that put me into a wall and carted off Asami last night.”

Bolin paused and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “What did you say her name was?”

“Korra, why?”

“No reason. Why are you telling me all of this?”

He gave Bolin a small shrug. “Because you’re my brother, and if she’s got me in her sights then you’ll probably get involved somehow. I thought you should know.”

“Look, Mako, this is all pretty weird and I don’t have the time to process it right now. I spent weeks trying to get these delegates here and I’m going to be late as it is. Go put some ice on your face and don’t pick any more fights with Asami, or I _will_ have Beifong run you in until you two can act like amicable exes. Don’t make yourself a liability to me.”

“If she had anything on me, I’d already be in jail. But I will go home and rest up since you were so nice about asking,” he said dryly as he produced a check from his pocket. “After I make one more stop. Did you remember?”

“Of course. I know you’d go and break into my house if I forgot, anyway.”

Bolin produced his own check from inside his jacket, only for the wind to pick back up and sweep them both away. They turned to chase after them, but the checks were already safely beneath a taut length of metal coil.

“Good morning, Chief.”

Lin picked up the checks with her coil and gave them a quick glance before Bolin took them back. “Jíxiáng Orphanage?”

“Thank you for catching those.”

She looked past Bolin and matched Mako’s cool gaze. “Some girl finally got tired of your awful come-ons?”

“Come on Chief, you know you’re the only woman for me,” he said as Bolin handed over the checks.

Her disgust was palpable, and Bolin had to resist rolling his eyes. “What brings you here, Lin?”

“You, Councilor. Everyone else is at the meeting. The Governor, Lieutenant Governor, and Foreign Minister from Jīnshǔ are waiting in the rotunda, and I’m not going to babysit them, orders or not.”

“Oh, fine. I thought you might like the chance to catch up, I guess not. But how did you find me so quickly?”

“She _was_ a detective,” Mako said.

“Your driver followed you and radioed in. That vein in Tenzin’s forehead started throbbing when you didn’t arrive on time.”

“Well, so much for Mei’s glowing review,” Bolin muttered. “All right, let’s go, then. We have dinner with everyone tomorrow night, Mako, get yourself cleaned up.”

He and Lin left in her cruiser, weaving through the traffic to get back in time, and Mako gathered his people before heading out for some much-needed sleep.

⁂

No longer bothering to even appear to wait for the ferry, Korra sped under the bay and emerged on the Air Temple Island dock. The healer that the Councilor suggested had been effective, but took several hours longer than she expected. It was well into the afternoon, and she had surely missed the airbending practice she hoped to observe, but Ikki and Meelo were usually willing to demonstrate if she asked nicely.

The eastern courtyard was empty as she climbed up the stairs. Everyone was probably still at lunch, she reasoned. Her stomach growled, and she remembered that her last meal had been breakfast the day before. Even that was insubstantial, nothing more than some rice and meat with a cup of tea from a street vendor. Tenzin’s wife was always trying to feed her, and the offer was rather tempting, even if it was all vegetarian.

“Maybe she made those seaweed rolls…hmm?”

On the north side of the courtyard was an overlook of the bay and the smaller island with its statue of the last Avatar. Past the rocks and trees demarcating the end of the courtyard was a sheer drop to a jagged beach and lapping waves below. That was where Korra saw a small, waifish figure in gray, rocking back and forth on her heels while holding onto a branch above her, looking down toward the water.

“Jinora?”

Her stomach twisted up when Jinora looked back at her across the yard, her eyes bloodshot from tears, and the world slowed as her hands slipped away from the branch.

Blood pounded in her ears. A few longer strands of her hair bounced in front of her face, pushed about by the wind and her movement. Her bag fell to the ground as Jinora disappeared from view. She jumped over the rocks and down the cliff, all thoughts pushed from her mind.

The wind whipped at her, salty air stinging her eyes and blurring her sight. Jinora was there, below her and out of reach, a mass of gray against the yellow of the sand and the blue of the water. Korra reached out, narrowing her profile to make herself fall faster. Her fingers brushed the hem of Jinora’s robes, and with one massive yank Korra pulled her up and grabbed her around the waist.

Falling was a strange thing, Korra thought. Her head grew lighter, something sunk into the pit of her stomach, and she felt the same tingling that ran along her arms and legs whenever she was near Asami. As quickly as she could, she righted herself, no longer caring to hide, and quickly straightened her legs out under her.

An inferno erupted beneath her boots, blasting both of them with sweltering heat. Korra lifted Jinora farther to keep her clothes from catching fire as they sunk down to the shoreline, flames turning sand to glass beneath them.

When she felt ground underneath her feet again, Korra fell to her knees, trembling and holding Jinora tightly against her. Both of them were crying, and Jinora stayed limp in Korra’s arms.

“Why?” she mumbled, her voice muffled by Korra’s jacket.

Korra pushed her back slightly, but Jinora refused to meet her gaze, only staring somberly at the ground between them. “Why? _Why_? Because that fall would have killed you!”

“And you jumped after me? Just like that?”

“Look, I’m not going to call you a fool for trying to kill yourself, I’ve been there, but that fall might’ve left you down here with a broken neck until the tides or the birds got to you—”

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself!” Jinora said, still trying to speak through the tears. She sat down opposite Korra, bringing her knees up under her chin. “Okay, I was…I was thinking about it. My brother and sister are doing so well with their airbending and I can’t do anything, so what if I wondered how quick it’d be over?”

Korra said nothing.

“And then you show up and go calling my name. It startled me! I lost my grip and then you came rushing. You didn’t even stop. I saw you running as I fell.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you hit the ground,” she said quietly, looking at the singe marks on her boots.

“Do you risk your life a lot for people you barely know?”

“You’d be surprised.” Jinora smiled weakly, and Korra stood up to offer a hand. “Come on. Let’s go back up.”

Jinora walked side by side with her, curling into the feeling of Korra’s hand on her shoulder. They returned to the pier, still mercifully empty, and started up the steps to the courtyard.

“Korra?”

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you say that you were a firebender?” Jinora asked. “I said yesterday that I couldn’t explain losing bending to a nonbender. Why didn’t you correct me?”

Her mind raced, and she faked being out of breath for a moment as she collected her thoughts. “A firebender hanging around the last Air Nomads? Might’ve been awkward.”

“Oh. I thought you were from one of the Water Tribes, with the eyes and the skin.”

“I am,” she said automatically, wishing she could reach out and catch the words. Jinora tilted her head.

“So…you’re a Water Tribe firebender, going to school in the Earth Kingdom, and researching Air Nomads…in Republic City.”

Korra smiled and shrugged. “Try saying that five times fast. Listen, do you want to help me with my project?”

“I do kind of owe you.”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

They went back to the courtyard, toward the Bagua circle in the center. Korra retrieved her bag and brought it over with her, but rather than pull out her notebook and set herself on a rock, she took up the position opposite Jinora.

“Sketching and taking notes are fine, but I learn best by doing. I have to really feel it. Can you walk the circle with me?” Korra asked, bringing herself into her airbending form.

“I can, but you’re in the western style,” Jinora said, going over to her and nudging her feet into a different position. “That’s an exhibition form. You don’t use it for walking the circle, it’s for dancing or acrobatics, and I don’t know it very well, anyway. It’s Ikki’s specialty. I only know the eastern style well enough to teach it.”

 _Zaheer never bothered to tell me I was using the wrong form?_ Korra thought, annoyance flashing through her. “Oh. I guess my teachers weren’t as good as they thought. Why don’t you model it for me?”

“Okay.” She took up a proper stance to let Korra follow suit, and then went over to make corrections. “One foot forward, but keep them parallel. And your elbows should be in closer to your sides. Back straight, palms out.”

Korra couldn’t help but grin at Jinora’s change. With someone to teach, something to impart, at least she could keep from focusing on losing her bending. Maybe she could make that suggestion to Tenzin.

 _No, you’re here to kill him,_ she told herself. Getting attached to others would only make her task harder. Asami had already proven that. When she was reading about the Equalists before coming to the city, she had decided they were only more tyrants grasping at power and they would have to go as well, given the opportunity. But even with their leader at her mercy, she was helpless to do anything but let her mind race. Asami was only human, like her.

“Korra? Korra, focus.”

She shook her head clear and nodded. “Right, sorry.”

“So with airbending, you use a lot of the same breath control as in firebending,” Jinora said, stepping back to the other side of the circle. “In and out, slowly. Focus on the rising and falling of your chest. This style is about meditative concentration and was used defensively, for protecting important things. Start with bringing your hands up over your head and—ah!”

Jinora jumped back and nearly fell as lightning sprung from Korra’s fingertips, branching through the air before grounding out beneath them. The slight singed scent of electrically charged air surrounded them for a few moments, and Korra felt her heart race as it always did when she channeled her chi so sharply. She took a step forward, but Jinora kept her distance, nervously watching Korra’s hands.

“You can bend lightning?”

“I didn’t mean to,” she said nervously, keeping still so that Jinora wouldn’t back away. “It’s the same breath control elements. Won’t happen again, I promise.”

With another furtive glance at Korra’s hands, Jinora resumed her position on the other side of the circle. “I guess you were right about the awkwardness. Let’s try again.”

They ran through their breathing exercises once more, with Korra carefully tamping down her chi to keep it from erupting in flames or lightning again. With slow, steady motions, they began making a counterclockwise circuit. Jinora would make light corrections to Korra’s stance or the position of her arms, and she marveled at how remarkably _different_ it felt. It was the same routine, the same steps, but with the proper form she could almost feel the energy surging through her. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensation—

“What is that?”

Her eyes snapped open, looking at her hands and expecting cinders, but instead a small vortex had formed in the middle of the circle, swirling as they moved around it. Korra stopped dead, as did Jinora, and the air dissipated as she looked at her trembling hands.

 _There needs to be a bigger difference between the feelings of firebending and airbending_ , Korra thought ruefully.

“I…I can airbend again?” she asked, more to herself than to Korra. “How?”

She looked at Korra, who provided no response, and then ran into the temple while yelling excitedly for her family. With sorrow and the painfully familiar feeling of self-hatred mounting, Korra ran.


	8. When Extremes Meet

The month was hard for Korra. Watching Jinora’s mood come crashing back down when she failed to airbend again wrenched her heart and made her observations almost harrowingly awkward. Her family didn’t know what to make of her assertion that she could bend again, and every time Korra saw Jinora trying fruitlessly she hated herself more and more.

It became so bad that she cut her observations from every day to every other day, and then to once or twice a week. To start compiling her research, she said. Instead her notebook remained open to her sketches in the hold of her boat, propped up so she could practice airbending in private.

In the rest of her time, she either explored the city or found herself getting closer to Asami. Some days she did nothing but find small side streets or bound between rooftops, and soon she knew the bay district as well as she knew the hold of her boat. She did the same on the nights when she had no plans, and before long she was almost preternaturally aware of which streetlights flickered, which made annoying buzzing sounds, and which needed to have their bulbs replaced.

But her favorite nights by far were with Asami. Sometimes she arrived while pretending to check on her warehouse, with food that just so happened to be in her bag. Sometimes they walked the streets in the twilight of the sunset. Once Asami dropped any pretense altogether and brought Korra back to her home, a rather palatial estate with enough people to cook the richest meal she had ever tasted. She had even insisted on showing Korra her bedroom, which made Korra lose her nerve and duck out ungracefully. They had stayed on the boat after that, passing drinks back and forth while they sat under the stars, shuffling closer until they passed out or called it a night.

The bellow of the ferry’s horn broke Korra out of her reverie as it approached Air Temple Island. She had decided to take the ferry at least once, and after only a few minutes she decided to never take it again if at all possible. It was loud, smelled of sweat, and someone had tried walking off with her backpack. More than once the temptation arose to shear off parts of the hull and let it sink, but she held back, and she disembarked not a moment too soon.

Air Temple Island was even quieter than usual. Korra adjusted a strap on her backpack and started up the stairs, where a few acolytes were sweeping the steps. They nodded to her as she passed, and in the courtyard she saw Jinora at the Bagua circle, trying once more to airbend. Tenzin stood nearby, watching her in one of his finer cloaks.

“Good morning,” Korra said. Jinora ignored her, lost in concentration, and Tenzin pursed his lips as he watched her.

“Hello, Korra. I wasn’t able to get a message to you, I have a meeting to attend. There won’t be much to observe today, unless you have a section on cleaning in your paper.”

“Council business?” she asked, bristling.

“Yes, we have a few matters to go over. My usual page who goes to these things with me is sick, though. I was going to ask Jinora, but she barely moves from the Bagua circle.”

“Is that something I could do?”

Tenzin raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure the note-taking part of it wouldn’t faze you, but it’s hardly something to add to your research.”

“Oh, no, it’s more of a personal thing. I’ve always been interested in governments.”

She rolled back and forth on her heels while Tenzin considered it. Plying him never proved to be a challenge. “That should be fine. Let’s head out, then.”

He said goodbye to Jinora, who stayed ignorant of the world outside the Bagua circle. Korra felt her heart pound in her chest. _Is it really going to be this easy_ , she thought. They returned to the dock and took one of the boats, heading back to the city at a leisurely pace to weave through the water traffic.

“Thank you for helping me out with this, Korra,” Tenzin said, letting the boat idle while a cargo ship passed them.

She shrugged. “Don’t mention it. What’s your meeting about?”

“We met with some Earth Kingdom officials a few weeks ago who had sent teams to look for the next Avatar. It went as well as all the other searches. Now we have to decide if we want to send our own people out. A few groups from one province can’t cover the entire Earth Kingdom, and it’s been almost twenty years now.”

Korra leaned over the side of the boat, letting her fingers skim through the water as they moved. “Hopefully this one didn’t kill their parents, too.”

“Hmm? No, the last Avatar’s parents are still alive. It was only her that died in that fire. Tonraq and Senna were both fine.”

“What?”

She spun back so fast the boat shook. Korra clambered over one row of seats, looking desperately at Tenzin. “What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you from the South Pole? How is it you don’t know any of this?”

“I…I haven’t been there in years. I grew up in the Fire Nation.”

“Jinora mentioned you were a firebender.” Tenzin looked around her to keep the boat on course. “I spoke with Tonraq not two weeks ago about establishing a consulate there. He’s still very much alive, still the chief of the Southern Water Tribe.”

With a retch in her stomach, Korra leaned over the side of the boat again and heaved. Her throat burned and her legs shook madly at his words. With her arms still trembling, she pushed herself back into her seat, breathing heavily and holding her head in her hands.

“Are you okay?”

 _No_. “Fine,” Korra said, fingers gripping at her hair. Once her head stopped spinning, she began to process his words, dancing around memories of contrary facts she had been told for years.

Her father was a leader.

Her father was alive.

Korra was only vaguely aware of following Tenzin through the city after he docked the boat, moving as if in the haze of a waking dream. There was a sound that might have been him speaking, but it was all a dull echo to her. She only focused on following the maroon of Tenzin’s cloak from a few steps behind, flicking her fingers together to create sparks as she did. If her parents were alive, then the fire she started hadn’t killed anyone.

_Did I start that fire?_

Yes, she told herself. She knew she could firebend by then. It must have been her.

“Tenzin?”

He turned back as they stood waiting at a crosswalk. “Yes?”

“Chief Tonraq, what’s he like?”

“A great man, and a better chief. His father ruled both tribes until they separated about thirty years ago. He lives near my mother, and I try to see him whenever I go to visit her. Amazingly devoted to his people…although, to tell you the truth, he and Senna were never the same after their daughter died.” Tenzin paused while they crossed the street, and then continued as they neared City Hall. “Not that I can blame them, I can’t imagine losing a child. I still remember the funeral. The whole tribe was silent through the entire procession, and Tonraq and Senna were inconsolable for a week.”

“Did they have any other children?” Korra asked, her voice sullen.

“No, they never did. I’m not sure if they could handle it. She was their only child. Even not living there, I’m very surprised you don’t know any of this. The death of an Avatar isn’t exactly a provincial event.”

“I never followed the news growing up.” Her hands tightened into fists, then relaxed. “Everything was kind of sheltered. We’re here.”

City Hall loomed before them, gold trim standing in relief against brilliant white travertine and capped with a massive green dome. It looked rather nice in the daytime, Korra had to admit.

“So we are. Are you sure you’re okay? You look ready to pass out. I can do this myself, if need be.”

“No, I’m all right. Something I ate. Let’s go.”

She had managed to approach the front of the building a few times at night, but never got inside before. A guard waved her and Tenzin through the main doors and into the rotunda.

The outside was impressive; the inside was another order of magnitude entirely. On the inside of the dome was a massive fresco map of the world, stylized to present each nation vibrantly in their home colors. Statues stood sentry along the walls, past Avatars and Councilors, and in the middle of the rotunda was a large monument to the four elements. Hidden spouts kept a flame burning and waterfall flowing beneath it, while wind chimes above tinkled and earth and metal wrapped around it all.

“It’s this way,” Tenzin said, sidestepping the display and heading to another set of doors opposite the main entrance. Korra followed with a glance back at the monument. “Your chair will be next to mine, beside the table. I’ll trust you to capture the salient points, but I don’t think this will take long.”

“Sounds good.”

“Thank you again, Korra,” he said, almost hanging on her name while he opened the door to the Council chamber. “I really appreciate it.”

Korra looked at him warily, but they exchanged no more words, and made their way inside. The chamber’s opulence was slightly more understated than the rotunda, but the extravagance was still plain to see. Three people she didn’t know were already assembled, as well as one she did.

Bolin sat to the right of the center seat, rolling a small smooth stone through his fingers that he set down as they approached. “Hello again,” he said, ignoring Tenzin entirely as he took the seat on Bolin’s left. The hairs on the back of Korra’s neck stood up.

“Councilor.”

Tenzin motioned to Korra as she took a chair from the gallery and put it at one end of the table. “This is Korra, she’ll be paging for us today.”

“She’s the one doing the research you keep going on about?” the woman in the center seat asked. Korra blushed as she retrieved her notebook.

“Yes, Izana. Shall we get started?”

They called roll—a rather excessive point of order if anyone asked Korra, but no one asked her—and launched into their discussion. Her hand carried the pen across her notebook automatically, gliding along with their voices while her eyes flitted around the room. It was a closed meeting, leaving the six of them behind a locked door. All Korra could see was one large deathtrap. The floor and table were both stone, something she could easily melt and leave them all awash in lava. A few pillars flanking them looked like they could be pulled down quickly, and failing all that the chandeliers above them were metal. Bending gold was challenging, but not beyond her.

But for all the opportunities the room provided Korra, her mind was in another place entirely. Her parents were alive. Tenzin had no reason to deceive her and sometimes seemed honest to a fault. All the guilt and hatred she spent years turning inward was baseless, then, and…a lie.

_Why would they lie to me?_

Korra tried to shake her head clear and looked at the Councilors. Their meeting had devolved into an argument teetering on the edge of civility, and her notes had similarly become little more than a wavering line across the page.

“This should be a matter for the White Lotus,” Bolin was saying, leaning forward and putting his hand on his forehead. “What’s the alternative? Sending the United Forces into the Earth Kingdom? We can’t tie them up as an expeditionary force. You heard how the teams from Jīnshǔ spent six months scouring a single corner of the country without results. Not to mention the reaction from the rest of the world if we sent our domestic force across the border.”

“The world needs its Avatar,” Tenzin replied simply. “The White Lotus has gone twenty years without results. And I think we have a slightly larger force than a single province in the southern Earth Kingdom.”

“You might not have the most unbiased perspective here, Tenzin,” Izana said. He shifted in his seat. “I think you’re letting your relationship with the Avatar affect your impartiality—”

Her comment set the argument onto the other side of civility, and Korra leaned back in her chair while their voices raised. She looked at the clock and saw that nearly an hour had passed without any sort of progress.

_These people aren’t evil. Incompetent, not evil. They’re too busy fighting each other to be any threat._

Bolin pounding his gavel on the table silenced everyone. “I think we’ve passed the point of productivity. Let’s table this for now and move up our talks with the provincial governors. Who knows? This land used to be part of the Earth Kingdom.”

“It still is, if you ask the Earth Kingdom,” Izana cut in.

“Maybe the Avatar is right here.” Bolin’s eyes fixed on Korra, who impassively matched his gaze, hands set in her lap. “In the United Republic, that is.”

Everyone else grumbled their assent, and Bolin brought the gavel down once more. “That’s a full lid, then. See you all tomorrow. Maybe leave the tempers at the door.”

Korra could feel Bolin’s eyes burning a hole in the back of her head as she ducked down to pack her notebook. The other Councilors filtered out one by one, until only her, Tenzin, and Bolin remained.

“Izana had a point, you know,” Bolin said. Tenzin huffed, and instead of pressing the subject Bolin turned his attention to their page. “How was your first foray into the glamorous world of Republic City politics, Miss…?”

“It’s just Korra. And this wasn’t exactly what I expected. Mostly because you were too busy arguing to actually get anything done.”

“More exciting than budget votes. I have a family function, so I have to run. Tenzin. Korra.”

⁂

It was a bright, hot, dry day, and Mako had committed to enjoying as much of it as he could. There was the weekly dinner with their family later, but until then the plaza in front of City Hall was a fine place to spend his afternoon. Sitting in a heavily trafficked area wasn’t a terrible alibi, either, even if his memories of the place were mixed. His hand brushed against a worn-down carving on a slat of his bench, and he had to smile despite himself. Asami’s initials were crudely intertwined with his, faded by the years almost to the point of being unnoticeable.

“You shouldn’t live in the past.”

He looked up, squinting slightly from turning his gaze directly into the sun, and saw Asami standing there, arms crossed over her chest.

“I don’t know, the past is awfully nice. Especially before we started hating each other. What are you doing here?”

“Stopping by the permit office. You?”

“Waiting for Bolin. Family thing. Care to join me?” Mako asked, leaning back on the bench. To his surprise, Asami shrugged and sat next to him. “Didn’t expect that to work.”

“You’re surprisingly tolerable when you aren’t stealing from me. Before we started hating each other…we could go about seven years back to when we were eighteen and you brought me here. After you finally worked up the nerve to ask me out on a proper date.”

“You only ever seemed interested in a physical relationship,” Mako said. “If you had ever mentioned romance I would’ve asked sooner.”

“And Bolin was paging for the Council then, so you convinced him to set up that light show while we walked through the plaza.” Asami finally seemed to relax, letting the memory flood in. “One of my better dates, even if it was with you.”

“You’re a shoo-in for ‘Backhanded Compliment of the Year.’”

“Then we sat here to watch the rest, and you pulled a knife—”

“To carve our initials in the bench!” Mako said indignantly, pointing to the remains of the etching between them.

“Yes, but you learned to mention things like that beforehand instead of trying to do it without a word, didn’t you?”

Mako curled his hand into a fist and then flattened it again. “Yeah. It still hurts when it rains. Sprained wrist aside, it was a pretty good date. It’s not like we ever needed weapons to hurt each other, anyway.”

“I thought you wanted to stay in the nice memories,” she said, giving him a sidelong glance before turning to look straight at him. “We’ve beaten each other up too many times to reminisce about in a single afternoon.”

“Fair enough.”

“Do you ever wonder how it might’ve been different?” Asami asked. “If you weren’t a bender, things like that? I do.”

“So much for not living in the past. I think about it sometimes, but even if I’d lost my bending I think you’d still hate me. Besides, I thought you were keeping busy with that Water Tribe girl.”

“Korra,” she said, a grin creeping unbidden across her lips.

“Yeah, her. I don’t know how you ever got the Avatar to sign on with you, but your recruiting is second to none.”

For a moment she could find nothing to say, only looking blankly at her ex. “What did you say? The what?”

“That’s Avatar Korra.”

She shot up from the bench, glaring at Mako. “No it isn’t!”

“Oh, then it must be some other airbending, firebending Water Tribe girl named Korra,” he said, matching her motion so they were both standing, staring daggers at one another. The softness they had let surface disappeared in an instant, buried under fresh animosity. “She made me say as much after she tossed us all around with a cyclone, and she sure isn’t one of Tenzin’s kids.”

Their shouting was beginning to draw the attention of some of the guards posted in front of City Hall, but neither of them noticed. “You’re a damn liar,” Asami spat, her hand cracking across Mako’s face.

⁂

“Are your meetings always this…productive?” Korra asked as she and Tenzin left the Council chamber.

“No. Sometimes we have lunch delivered and manage to get even less done.”

“That Bolin guy is a jerk.”

Korra thought she saw a smile flash on Tenzin’s face for a brief moment. “I’m not inclined to disagree with you there. Privately, of course.”

“So that’s kind of your pet project, huh? Finding the Avatar again?”

Tenzin led them back through the rotunda and to the main entrance. “There isn’t anyone better to help restore balance to Republic City. We’re going to have a war on our doorstep now that the Equalists have resurfaced and they’re going for the triads, and we need all the help we can get.”

As they stepped outside, the sun kissed Korra’s skin, and she very nearly bumped into Bolin on the steps, rooted in place by something.

“I thought you had a family function,” Korra said.

“Some of my family is busy making a very big mistake.”

She looked to where Bolin indicated, near the foot of the City Hall stairs, and felt her chest tighten. Asami and Mako were at each other’s throats, and they were close enough that their argument was plainly audible to Korra and the Councilors watching.

“You’re a damn liar,” Asami said with a hard slap to Mako’s cheek. The strike barely seemed to faze Mako, and his only reaction was to turn his head to where Korra, Bolin, and Tenzin stood. His eyes narrowed.

_Oh no. No, no, no…_

“Think so?” he asked, turning back to Asami. He took a step to close the distance between them, staring her down. Sparks crackled around his hand in a flurry of light. “Ask her.”

“Leave her alone!”

Korra wasn’t aware of moving to react. They were drilled motions, far below the level of conscious thought, and no sooner had the air rushed out under her command than she realized what she had done.

Mako flew right off his feet and into the air, coming down hard in a topiary on the edge of the plaza. No one seemed terribly concerned with his landing, and instead everyone’s focus snapped to Korra, who had not thought to move out of her airbending form.

“Did you just airbend?” Tenzin asked, sputtering for the words.

“Seems Mako was right,” Bolin said, backing away from her. “You _are_ the Avatar.”

Asami only looked at her, dumbstruck, her eyes betraying so much anguish that Korra couldn’t bear to meet her gaze.

“Korra…?”

The guards began descending on her and Mako. The stone beneath Korra’s feet shot out of place and propelled her upward, and once in the air fire burst from her feet, rocketing her away.


	9. The Ultimatum

The booking process was intimately familiar to Mako. An officer hauled him through the station, making a special detour to parade him in front of the organized crime unit. He let them have their fun, and endured it all with a proper look of indignation. When they were through jeering, the officer dragged him back down to intake, where they took his fingerprints and a fresh mugshot. Every so often he looked over at the far side of the area, where the women were handled. Beifong was processing Asami personally, and the occasional glare she shot him stung deeper than any rough handling from the officers.

“I think I actually saw the chief smile when she ran you two in,” Captain Saikhan said as he led Mako down a hallway full of holding cells.

“Glad I could brighten her day.”

Saikhan picked a cell and shoved Mako inside, where he nearly tripped over the frame of the cot. He began closing the door, but a voice stopped him short.

“Hold up.”

He paused, and stood guard over Mako instead while Lin led Asami into the next cell over. The captain stood aside while Lin closed Asami’s door and returned to Mako’s. She gave him a hard look, and for an instant he thought he saw it waver into something else, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

Lin brought her arms from one side to the other, and the heavy metal cell door slammed into place in its frame. She twirled her fingers in a circle, and the handcuffs released from Mako’s wrists and floated back to her through the bars of the door.

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” Mako asked dryly, rubbing his wrists while he sat back on the hard cot. He looked around the cell; there was a stone seat in front of a slab that served as a desk, and a metal toilet with a sink on top. They had upgraded since the last time he had been processed. Gray stone walls and a door were the extent of his world again. Lin pursed her lips, trying not to smile.

“Better.”

“I knew I’d satisfy you eventually.”

She was in too good a mood to rise to his taunt. Instead she and Saikhan simply walked away, leaving Mako with nothing but a view of a section of stone wall and the muffled sounds of Asami crying. It twisted at his heartstrings, but the instinct to comfort her faded quickly.

“Pull it together,” he muttered. The sniffling paused for a moment. “It’s your fault we’re in here anyway. I don’t even know _why_ I’m in here, as a matter of fact. You’re the one who slapped me. That menacing charge will never hold up.”

“She lied to me.”

Asami’s voice was low, and he struggled to hear her. Something that sounded suspiciously like a fist pounding a pillow accompanied her voice.

“You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t know you were going around with the Avatar.”

“It’s not like they have big identifying tattoos or something,” Asami shot back, her voice tinged with anger.

“Well, the last one—”

“Oh, shut up.”

Mako rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. More gray stone, and a light buzzing faintly in the center. “So you really didn’t know?”

“I really didn’t know. She never bent anything in front of me before today,” Asami said, the anger in her voice replaced by defeat.

“She tends to beat me up whenever I’m near you. Is there a bell around your neck that brings her running? Or is that just the effect you have on her? I didn’t even know you liked girls before this little escapade. Puts our breakup in some new perspective, doesn’t it?”

“I’m done talking.”

“Come on,” he said, rapping his knuckles on the wall between them. No response. “You have something better to do in there? Lin give you a deck of cards or something? I told you I was impressed, I thought you still liked having your ego stroked. The Equalist and the Avatar, now how’s that for a story. It’d sweep every mover award they have.”

Asami’s boot slammed into the frame of her cot, and the metal rattled. “I swear, I’m going to break your jaw when I get out of here.”

He declined to think up a retort.

Some hours later, footsteps down the hall drew his attention. Slowly, painfully slowly, Bolin stepped into view, giving him the same glare as Lin from across the intake area. It didn’t have quite the same effect coming from him, and Mako shot up off the bed.

“I like the new mugshot,” Bolin said. “The old one had that awful beard you tried growing.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Remember what I said about liabilities and not becoming one, Mako? You’re becoming one.” Bolin glanced into the next cell. “Asami.”

“Councilor.” Venom dripped from the word. “Here to ride in and save the day for him? Honor among thieves, I guess.”

“Bold words from behind a cell door. I’m sure you’ll be out of here in no time, anyway.” Bolin turned his attention back to his brother. “You did this on purpose to get out of dinner with everyone tonight, didn’t you?”

Mako raised his hands in mock surrender. “Yeah, you caught me. Sitting here in this cell is obviously preferable to a slightly boring family meal and ducking around questions, so I went and got myself arrested. I even dragged Asami along for the fun of it. She had a board meeting she wanted to skip. Now are you going to get me out or not?”

“I really shouldn’t,” Bolin said, crossing his arms. “I ought to leave you in here until they arraign you and make some excuse to Grandma about you being sick.”

“But…?”

“But having you here puts a massive target on this building for every two-bit triad who wants to make a name for himself, same with Asami and her people. You have a knack for wrangling them. In your own twisted way, you’ve got them propped up as some kind of family, they listen to you. And frankly I’d rather have them fighting Equalists than the police.”

Asami scoffed.

“I guess there’s something in there about how you’re my brother, no matter how monumentally you screw up, and I’m grateful to you for letting me know the Avatar was running around my city.”

“How was I the last one to know about this?” Asami asked.

They ignored her. “Well, I guess we’re even, then,” Mako began, but Bolin was already shaking his head.

“Not even close. First, you’re going to dinner. I’m not. Tenzin is already chomping at the bit trying to find this girl. You’re going to sit there, smile, explain I’ve got urgent Council business, and say absolutely nothing about the last three hours. Second, you’re going to calm down your triads.”

“I’m not their father, despite what you might think. Once they know I ended up in here with Asami, I won’t be able to stop them if they want to hunt down Equalists. Not that I’d want to, either.”

“You’ll do what you can. I'm not going to have blood running through the streets. And you still owe me, bigtime.”

It was hardly a choice. “Done.”

Bolin produced a cell key from his jacket pocket and unlocked the door, letting it slide back on its rail. Mako stepped slowly out and peered into Asami’s cell where she sat on her cot, sulking. They locked eyes, and for a moment they were eighteen again, seething after one fight or another before they would kiss and make up. He said nothing and followed Bolin back down the hall.

“Oh, and one more thing. You’re going to cool it with Beifong.”

“Was that her condition for letting me out?” Mako asked.

“No, it’s my condition. She can make my life miserable when she’s on a tear, which she usually is after one of your come-ons. Post-menopausal police chief getting riled up? You have no idea how unpleasant she can be after talking to you.” Bolin knocked on the door at the end of the hall and it slid open, bringing them back to the main processing area. “Plus it’s just weird. Even ignoring the fact that she’s old enough to be our mother, she took us in. Or tried to, anyway. What’s the matter with you?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t. I prefer women my own age, thanks very much.”

Bolin led him to the quieter, secondary exit, where they could leave without attracting attention, but they were too late for that. Lin leaned against the wall beside the door, staring them both down.

“Don’t make me regret this, Councilor,” she said, her voice as sharp as steel.

He nodded to her as he returned the cell key, and Mako passed with only a quick glance, remaining silent until they were in the parking lot behind the building. “Happy?”

“Over the moon. Go to dinner and make nice with everyone. Oh, and Mako?” Bolin wheeled around and grabbed Mako by the collar, pulling him down with surprising ease until they were at eye level with one another. “They’re going to rip into me over letting you out. You might not be afraid of Beifong, but don’t make _me_ regret this.”

⁂

“The city’s on the brink of falling apart and this is what you want to focus on?”

Tenzin clenched his jaw at Sani’s question. “We can’t make the police work any harder than they already are. They’ve called in everyone they can while they coordinate with the United Forces.”

“So we _are_ authorizing military action?” Kula asked, steepling her fingers. “Equalists and triads aren’t an invasion force. The backlash will be incredible, and I can already tell you that the rest of the world won’t hesitate to haul us in front of a tribunal over it.”

“We can’t authorize anything,” Izana said. “Not until Bolin gets back. Mobilizing the United Forces has to be a unanimous decision. Where did he go?”

“He said something about police headquarters.” Tenzin sat back in his seat, lightly touching a pounding vein in his forehead. “And Izana is right. There’s no point in debating this until Bolin is here. So yes, Sani, I want to focus on finding the Avatar before we have to decide if we’re going to turn our army on our own people.”

“And you’re sure that girl was the Avatar?” Sani asked. “It defies credibility. She was paging a meeting about herself? Not to mention that you didn’t notice her in all that time she was on your island.”

“She was airbending, and then she started earthbending and firebending. Bolin saw it too. I didn’t even know she could bend at all until a few weeks ago, and then I thought she was only a firebender.”

“A _Water Tribe_ firebender…?” Kula asked. “We know there were lots of firebending children popping up in the Earth Kingdom during and after the war, but that didn’t happen in the Water Tribes.”

“You can all feel free to look at this with perfect hindsight, or we can do something about it,” Tenzin said. Internally he was beating himself over the head, but there was nothing to be done about the past. “I asked some of our people to look at where she was staying, but we should at least work with the White Lotus if the police haven’t already commandeered them.”

Izana frowned. “Our branch of the White Lotus is maybe twenty people, and the main force is still garrisoned in Omashu. It would take them at least a week to get here, and by then the Avatar could be anywhere.”

“We can order tighter border patrols, but she’s been here for over a month. My guess is she’s still in the city.”

“You’ll understand if your intuition is suspect at the moment,” Sani said coolly.

Tenzin began to protest, but the main door opened and Mei stumbled in, sporting a black eye. The police armor she had taken instead of the usual government uniform was badly dinged, and one of the sleeves was on the verge of falling off entirely. She had a backpack in her hand, badly torn and frayed.

“Mei? What happened?” Izana asked, standing up so fast she nearly knocked her chair down.

“I’m fine, Mom—Councilor, sorry. Councilor Tenzin asked us to check a boat by the southern docks.”

Izana stared daggers at him, and Tenzin was glad that looks couldn’t kill. “I didn’t want the trail to go cold,” he mumbled. “Who attacked you? Equalists? Triads?”

“The Avatar,” she said. “We kept to the back roads to avoid the fighting, and the docks looked clear when we arrived. No one was on the boat, so we went into the hold. There wasn’t much of anything inside. A few candles and a bedroll. It was like a monk lived there.”

“And the backpack?” Sani asked. “I thought she had it with her when she was here earlier.”

“She showed up, Councilor. We were busy searching and didn’t hear the footsteps. She seemed more scared than angry, honestly. I don’t think she knew we were firebenders at first, because she kept from actually bending,” Mei said, wincing and holding her hand to the bruise under her eye. “She was so fast…Ayane and Riko went down in less than a minute. Then Chan threw some fire with a punch, and she cut loose. She made the whole boat _ripple_ —I don’t know how else I could describe it, the metal almost erupted—and then tossed us around with a kind of cyclone. We don’t have any countermeasures for something like that, it threw us totally off balance.”

“More airbending,” Tenzin said.

“I got off a good fire blast before I hit my head. Singed her jacket. Chan managed to get to his feet and start with his lightning, so she made the boat ripple again and escaped. She dropped her bag, though.” Mei got herself slowly to the Council table, limping through some unseen damage under her uniform, and opened up the backpack’s main compartment.

“A change of clothes, a few pencils, an old poetry book,” she said, holding up each in turn. “And under those, we found a few more damning things. This odd kind of armor. It’s got water skins and metal strips, the kind the police shear off to make restraints. Not something anyone but the Avatar could use.”

She showed it to them. It looked to be a fabric weave, stained a dark red, and Mei set it down to root through the bag again.

“This, too. Council information. Looks like minutes from a meeting.”

A notebook appeared from the bag. “Yes, she was paging for us, earlier,” Tenzin said.

“Look in the back.”

She placed it in the center of the table, in front of Izana, and they crowded around her as she flipped through the pages. Nothing stood out near the beginning, mostly sketches of parts of Air Temple Island and transcriptions of meditation chants for the acolytes. There were a few drawings of airbending forms, a Bagua circle, and some of the outfits the acolytes wore.

“Is any of this…bad?” Kula asked Tenzin.

“No, but it’s remarkably detailed. She told me she researched Air Nomads at her university.”

“The last two pages are what stuck out to me, Councilors.”

Izana flipped through the remainder of the content and dozens of empty pages to the end, where there was a crude map of the City Hall exterior, with all the possible exits marked out. The ink of the map looked to be at least weeks old, but it was crossed out with fresh, thick lines.

Sani’s hand drifted over the map. “Looks like she copied an architectural plan. Why cross it out?”

Mei turned the last page:

 _MOM IS ALIVE_  
_DAD IS ALIVE_  
_RED LOTUS LIARS_

It was written over and over again, filling the entire page in an increasingly violent scrawl until it descended into illegibility. On the inside of the back cover was a stylized lotus, drawn in faded red ink, and it too was crossed out with new black lines.

None of them knew quite how to react. Izana traced her fingers over the words, Kula sat back down, and Tenzin felt his heart sink as Sani turned to him.

“What is all this?” he asked. “What’s this ‘Red Lotus’ she keeps referring to?”

Tenzin’s voice was low and concerned. “I have no idea. We were talking about the last Avatar’s parents—her parents, rather—on the way over here this morning. She thought they were killed in a fire years ago. I told her how they were alive, and she looked like she was about to be sick. She said it was indigestion. I didn’t quite believe her, but I thought she might’ve been having her period and didn’t want to say so.”

Everyone else looked at him, and Tenzin huffed. “I have two teenage daughters. I know better than to ask that question.”

Sani ran his hand through his hair, reaching back almost to the braids over his neck. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Tenzin. So, we have a panicked and possibly emotionally compromised Avatar somewhere in Republic City.”

“Maybe we _should_ mobilize the United Forces,” Kula said.

Izana turned to her daughter. “Mei, where are the others who went with you?”

“Chan and I brought Ayane and Riko to the nearest hospital, and he stayed there with them. I know I look bad, but it’s mostly superficial. This armor is some amazing stuff.”

“Go to a doctor. And tell whoever's on shift to find Bolin.”

She nodded as the phone rang, and she went automatically to answer it. “Captain Kimura…thank you, I’ll tell them.” Mei dropped the phone onto its hook. “Asami Sato’s lawyer sprung her. The Councilor did the same for his brother.”

Tenzin held his head in his hands. “So much for keeping the situation contained.”

⁂

Asami ducked into the back of the waiting car while Fù climbed into the driver’s seat. The back parking lot of the police station was devoid of press, thanks to the much nicer car ostensibly waiting for her at the front of the building.

“That battery charge was never going to stick,” he said as they pulled out onto the street. Sure enough, all the reporters and photographers were out in front of her usual car and ignoring the small sedan spiriting her away. “Beifong only wanted something to run you in on.”

She said nothing as she watched the early evening traffic go by. There had been more than enough time in her cell to exhaust that line of thought, and it was over and done with as far as she was concerned. Beifong wanted a media circus, wanted to humiliate her. She didn’t care that Asami had slapped Mako. _S_ _he probably wanted to buy me a drink for it_ , she thought.

“What happened while I was in there?” Asami asked.

“There was some fighting downtown with a bunch of triads. Seven people in the hospital, five of theirs, two of ours. The rest of us were shoring up some of our safe houses. Everyone’s out for blood. More than they were before, anyway.”

“And Korra?”

“Your—” he paused to search for the right word— “friend? I haven’t seen her. She hasn’t tried to get in touch with us, as far as I know. Why?”

“She was there, at City Hall.” Asami took a deep breath, fighting to keep her voice steady. “She’s the Avatar.”

Fù slammed on the brakes, causing a cascade of angry car horns behind them. He ignored the noise and whipped around in his seat. “What?”

“Just what I said, she’s the Avatar. You’re holding up the traffic.”

He righted himself and put the car back in gear. “I didn’t know until today when she took Mako off his feet with some airbending. Can’t believe the police are managing to keep such a tight lid on it.”

“They’re too busy trying to keep us and the triads apart to do much else.” Fù let his head fall back onto his headrest. “That girl saved our lives, and she’s some bender?”

“I need some time to think,” Asami said, leaning against the window. “Take me home.”

She closed her eyes and huddled her knees up under her chin. Out of the cell and having worked through the absurdity of her arrest, there was finally time and clarity to assess the bigger issue. Korra was the Avatar and that information was going to get out, one way or another. She trusted Fù to say nothing. His loyalty was beyond question, if only because it would throw the Equalists into disarray if they knew their leader was…whatever she was with the Avatar.

But it would get out, she knew. Maybe not soon, and maybe not with all the details of their relationship, but it would get out that Korra was the Avatar. The police knew, the Council knew, and Mako knew. Her hands tightened into fists at the thought that Mako knew more about Korra than she did.

“I’m going to kill him,” she muttered, digging her nails into her palms so hard she was afraid she would draw blood.

Traffic was light once they got into Asami’s neighborhood, and once they pulled up in front of her house she hopped out of the back seat without preamble. She went up to the driver’s door and Fù rolled down the window for her.

“Find the Avatar,” she said, her voice raw from trying not to cry all the way home. “Take some people and find her. She was staying on a little boat in front of our warehouse on the docks. Start there.”

“What do we do when we find her?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

The car eased away and disappeared while Asami looked up at the mid-sunset sky. It was going to rain soon. She went into her quiet, darkened house, slumped into a chair in the foyer, and let herself cry. She cried so hard and for so long that it began to hurt. Her throat felt hot and strangled, her eyes stung from the tears, and her body was growing sore from the shaking.

Something fell in one of the rooms above her, and Asami’s ears pricked up. None of her staff were there, and the door had been locked when she came in. Asami flicked her hand over the bank of switches beside the door, bathing the entry hall and surrounding rooms in light.

“Hello?”

There came no reply, and Asami got up out of her chair, eyes narrowing while she stalked up the staircase. She took a poker from in front of one of the hallway fireplaces and tried to trace the noise. As near as she could tell, it came from the room directly over the entrance, the only one with its door closed. Her bedroom.

Her boot crashed into the door at the spot she knew was weak, sending it flying on its hinge. It slammed into the wall, revealing her room much like she remembered leaving it that morning. Her desk was covered with diagrams and a disassembled shock glove, a small black wallet sat on her dresser, and the picture of her with her parents still hung on the far wall. The only things different, in fact, were the slightly open window and the bleary-eyed woman sitting on her bed.

“Please don’t hate me,” Korra said.

Asami felt the gorge rise in her throat, and she remembered the poker in her hand. She took two large steps into the room and thrust it at her, but Korra raised her arm and the metal bent away, curling uselessly back toward itself. Korra scrambled off the bed and backed away while Asami advanced on her, shaking so badly that she dropped the poker.

“Asami, please—”

She took a wild swing on Korra, too obviously telegraphed to have a chance of connecting, and Korra dipped down, tears shining in her eyes.

“Damn you. Damn you!”

Korra stopped, a forlorn expression growing on her face, and made no effort to move out of the path of the next punch, or the third or fourth. She only stood there, taking the hits without even a grunt of pain. Asami struck her arms, her shoulders, her stomach, the side of her head. There was no finesse behind it, no jabs to pressure points. Only anger that slowly siphoned into hurt, welling up so fast in her chest she thought she would explode.

They were both crying, and Asami’s angry outbursts devolved into incoherence as she fell back onto her bed. Korra knelt down in front of her and sat seiza, her palms turned up on her knees in supplication.

“Why did it have to be _you_?” Asami asked, nearly choking on the words.

“I thought something similar when I found out you were an Equalist.” Korra laughed bitterly, her gaze slipping away from Asami. “And then again when I found out you were their leader.”

“I wish I could go back to this afternoon and not stop to talk to Mako. There was a little noodle stand I wanted to take you to.”

“I didn’t want this,” Korra said, turning back to look at her. “I didn’t ask to be the Avatar. I didn’t ask to have people lying to me for years and making me feel bad about the things the past Avatars did. I didn’t ask to believe I had killed my parents for twenty years. I didn’t ask to get feelings for you and hate myself for starting to like the people I came here to kill!”

She spoke so fast that Asami barely understood her, but her head spun from the parts she caught. Korra had set her jaw in a hard line to keep her composure, but tears were still trickling down her face. “What are you talking about?” Asami asked.

“The Council, the police, the triads, the United Forces commanders. I settled on the Equalist leaders too, if the opportunity presented itself. I came here to kill all of you. They told me all of you had to die so I could fix the last Avatar’s mistake.”

“What mistake?”

Korra held her arms out, as if to indicate everything around her. “This. The United Republic. Another nation and set of borders to prop up leaders and tread all over the rest of the people.” She took a deep breath. “At least, that’s what I was told. The Council’s a bunch of arguing children and you’re not a monster. You’re just a regular person. I’m the monster.”

“For trying to kill us? People that are trying to fight back against the triads that use their bending to terrorize others? Why do you think we hate benders?”

“For lying to you and Tenzin and everyone else. For letting people lie to me my whole life. For planning to kill the people in charge and plunge everything into chaos.”

“Do you feel like a hero yet, Avatar?”

Korra winced, but didn’t answer her. “And for this.”

She reached down to her boot and produced a knife, its handle intricately carved out of what looked like whalebone. Korra slid the blade across her palm and held it up for Asami to see. A streak of red marred her skin, and after a moment it twisted upward, forming a spiral before falling flat and disappearing back into her hand.

Asami could feel her heart pounding in her chest. The adrenaline surged, and she heard her own rapid, ragged breathing overtake every other sound around them. A sickly cold sweat kicked in, and her hands began to shake.

“You’re a bloodbender…”

Korra looked at her almost apologetically, but Asami pushed herself to the far side of her bed and backed into the wall, fresh tears and hysterics overtaking her. With a quick, hot breath to cauterize the cut, Korra stood up, looking at Asami and stepping around her bed.

“There’s a full moon tonight. I don’t use it. I’ve never used it on people and I hope I never need to. I’ve had it done to me and it’s awful.” She started toward the spot Asami had backed into.

“Don’t you come near me!”

She struggled to stay in the present moment, wavering from side to side. Her mind tried to slip back to finding her father’s body, to discovering the truth of his death, to killing the last bloodbender she found.

“I lost everything today,” Korra said softly as her shoulders slumped. “I found out the people I thought were my family lied to me about everything for decades. Whatever rationale I had for the ideology I’ve been taught my whole life fell apart. The police are hunting me. You were the first person who was ever nice to me without wanting anything back, without lying to me, and now anything you felt for me is gone, too.”

Asami looked at her, searching for the words she wanted and failing to find them. Korra was wrong, she knew. On some level it was still there, tamped down under fear and apprehension and worry with a dozen other feelings she couldn’t describe. Korra chanced another step toward her, and she matched it, going back and forth until they were in arm’s reach of each other. She must have taken too long to reply, because any hope that still flickered in Korra’s eyes faded.

“I don’t have anything left.” Korra flipped the knife around and pressed the hilt into Asami’s hand. She put her hands on her head and closed her eyes, fighting back what was left of her tears. “If you hate me so much, then kill me.”


	10. In Harm's Way

_I hope the next Avatar is better than me._

Korra waited, her eyes shut tight, agonizing over where Asami would sink the knife into her. Tears flowed despite her efforts to hold them back, rolling down and falling from her chin. She didn’t know so much crying was possible. Her hands trembled on her head, and any strength left in her legs threatened to fail at any moment. The smell of her own fear, the hot metallic stench of blood mingled with sweat and adrenaline, overpowered the light perfume hanging in the air. That bothered her more than anything. If she was going to die, she wanted Asami’s scent to surround her, not her own broken cowardice.

But she wanted several things she wasn’t going to have. She wanted soft, delicate hands holding her tight, gripping, exploring. She wanted whispers against her ear telling her she wasn’t a monster, that she didn’t need to hate herself, that it was all going to be okay. She wanted to hug her parents and tell them she was sorry. She wanted Asami’s lipstick on her cheeks, her neck, her lips.

She wanted several things. All she was getting was a blade.

With a strangled cry, she tried relaxing her muscles so that it would be over quicker, but the bite of the knife didn’t come. It was just as well, everything was tight and contracted from the adrenaline flowing through her veins. Her legs shook, and through the vibrations she saw that Asami hadn’t moved. She only stood there, turning the knife over in her hand.

“Why are you drawing this out?” Korra asked, sniffling and resisting the urge to open her eyes. Her breathing quickened, turning into short, pained gasps in time with the racing of her heart. “Haven’t I been through enough today? Just get it over with! Do it!”

Korra heard the _swish_ of Asami’s clothes as she wound back, and as she resisted every instinct to move away or defend herself, metal clattered onto wood. She cracked one eye and saw the knife sliding away on the floor before it hit the leg of a chair and fell still.

Her heart still beat madly, pounding in her chest. “Why—?”

Asami cut her off with a quick step forward. She took Korra’s head in her hands and crashed their lips together, leaving shock and relief in equal measure. The gloss in Asami’s lipstick smudged and stuck around her mouth, covering the lines her tears had made. Her hands fell away from her head and found Asami’s hair, tangling up in the soft, sleek waves. Their selves melted away; there was no Equalist, and no Avatar. Only two desperate, damaged people.

With a quick push, Korra found herself on the soft silk sheets of the bed, staring up at Asami crawling onto her. The adrenaline was still coursing, and she was hyperaware of the hands tracing up under her jacket, drifting along the scars covering her body.

“Don’t you ever, _ever_ bloodbend again,” Asami said in barely more than a dangerous whisper, their faces so close that the tips of their noses bumped into one another. One of her fingers brushed at the wraps on Korra’s chest, and she nodded obediently, breaking out into a tearful grin as she did.

“Never.” She was nearly breathless, too excited and too relieved to draw air. “Asami…”

Another kiss, softer and slower, silenced her. Korra’s body twisted and shivered under Asami’s touch, moving to try and guide her fingers away from any scar tissue, but she was too caught up to care much. Instead she explored Asami, hands sliding from her hips to the small of her back, greedily clutching and groping along the way.

Asami nibbled at Korra’s lower lip, and the head rush almost made her hips buck. Fire and sweet, aching pressure built up between her legs, and a new tingling coursed through her wherever Asami laid her hands or lips. She moaned, consumed by sensation, and Asami sat up so that she was straddling Korra around her hips.

With one deft motion, Asami unfastened the button on her jacket and opened it, leaving her maroon turtleneck bare while she stripped off the jacket and threw it across the room. Korra watched, entranced, and squeezed Asami’s thighs while she pulled the sweater over her head. The intricate black lace of her bra stood in sharp contrast to her skin, and Korra slid one hand over Asami’s stomach while she reached for the clips of her bra. She was softer than Korra, with curves and smoothness rather than sharply defined muscle and scarring, and Korra felt a rush of self-consciousness at the comparison.

“You’re so beautiful,” Korra murmured as Asami undid her bra and tossed it aside. Her breasts were full and slightly paler than the skin around them, dotted with small pink nipples. She took Korra’s hands and put them on her chest, biting her lip when Korra felt her warmth and squeezed lightly, rolling her thumbs over the rapidly stiffening nipples. Asami rocked back and forth at the stimulation, stoking the arousal and dampness mounting between Korra’s thighs.

“I want to see you, too…”

Reluctantly, Korra sat up and allowed Asami to slide her jacket over her head. Apart from the wraps across her breasts, her skin was plainly visible, crisscrossed with faded scars and set over taut, solid muscle. She blushed, feeling almost weathered compared to the girl pressed against her, but Asami said nothing as she found the end of the wraps and began undoing them.

Asami kissed her again, pressing so close that Korra could feel the rising and falling of her chest, and was surprised to feel Asami’s tongue flitting at her lips, pleading to be let in. She opened her mouth slightly and their tongues met, mixing and mingling while Korra took in her almost-familiar taste.

The pressure on her chest faded as the wraps fell away. Without any compression, Korra broke away to take a deep breath and look down. She was not much bigger than Asami, but the marks from the wraps and her larger, darker nipples provided more than enough contrast.

Korra’s face flushed as they fell into another kiss and Asami’s hands found her breasts. Fingers rolled and tweaked her nipples, and Korra moaned, pushing back on Asami’s mouth to deepen their kiss. Her own hands grabbed at the top of Asami’s skirt, tugging lightly.

After a few moments of being pressed up against one another, Korra caught the blended scents of their arousal filling the room. Her own tanginess, slick on the insides of her thighs, mixed with Asami’s vaguely spicy scent and made for a heady aroma hanging in the air. Korra raked her fingers across Asami’s soft, smooth back until she pulled away and stood up to shimmy her skirt down.

It fell away, taking her panties at the same time, and once she stepped out of her boots all that remained were a pair of sheer silk stockings riding up past her knees. Korra laid back, propped up on her elbows to enjoy the view. Her heart began to race again, and the slight shine on Asami’s thighs made her roll her hips.

“Wow.”

She nudged Korra’s belt buckle. “Your turn.”

Without waiting, Asami tugged her pants down, tossing them aside while Korra pulled off her nearly soaked-through panties. They paused for a moment to look at one another, their reticence forgotten, and Asami fell back onto the bed, grabbing Korra and pulling her close until they were both on their sides.

“I think you’re pretty beautiful, too.”

Korra blushed, and she gasped when Asami took her hand and put it between her legs, above the tops of the stockings. The skin under her small tuft of black hair flushed red, and both of them trembled at the contact.

_Please don’t let this end._

“Touch me, Korra…I want to feel you...”

Her heart skipped a beat, and Korra shifted closer on the bed, slowly running her fingers along Asami’s warm, slick folds the same way she liked to touch herself. A long, low moan spurred her on, and Korra brushed on her clit, smiling at the wetness slowly coating her hand.

A few locks of Asami’s hair fell out of place as she twitched, obscuring her view as she gazed up at Korra, lost in the throes of her own pleasure. Her hips rocked, desperate for the contact, while she took Korra’s free hand and placed it around her throat, applying gentle pressure. “Good, just like that,” she said, hiking up her leg to give Korra more room. “Ah, harder…”

The words devolved into happy groans and whimpers as Korra picked up her pace, moving her fingers in a wider arc, pressing the smallest bit harder. Asami responded in kind, nuzzling into Korra’s shoulder and lightly biting her collarbone. Heat and desire flared in Korra, almost blazing as it mounted up between her legs, but her hands were occupied and Asami was in her own world, murmuring and flitting her tongue at Korra’s neck.

With the smallest push, Korra slid two fingers into Asami, who pitched her head back and moaned. Her legs shook while she clamped down on Korra’s fingers, warm walls squeezing and slipping while her fingers hooked slightly. She rested the heel of her hand on Asami’s clit and rubbed, moving her whole hand in a building rhythm while Asami tried to keep from crying out.

“Keep going, I’m gonna, I’m—”

Her legs snapped shut and she grabbed at Korra’s sides, nails digging in deep while she shuddered through her orgasm and pressed into the hand on her neck. Korra took the cue to tighten her grip, and Asami smiled as she stilled.

“Korra,” she gasped out, pulling back so she could breathe again. Slowly, Korra slipped her fingers away, still wet with Asami, and licked them clean. It was much the same as her scent, spice and vague sweetness, intoxicating in its complexity, but Asami sliding her stockings down distracted her. “My turn.”

She took Korra’s hands and put them over her head, wrapping the stockings around them before tying the silk to the posts of the bed’s headboard. Korra tugged at the knot, but it was secure, digging the slightest bit into her wrists. Any concern she had about it melted away when Asami began trailing kisses down her wrists, to her arms, and jumping over to her lips. Korra protested when she moved away and began leaving small traces of lipstick on her skin, but fell limp when Asami took one nipple in her mouth, flitting her tongue over the stiff, sensitive flesh.

“Mm, don’t stop…”

But she did stop after a moment, working farther down Korra’s quivering body, planting kiss after light kiss on her chest, her stomach, the sides of her hips, paying no mind to the scars adorning her. Finally her lips brushed on the patch of soft brown hair over Korra’s legs, and Asami looked up for a brief moment. Korra quickly nodded her assent, squirming against the restraints and rolling her hips to nudge them back into contact. She could feel her arousal burning through and threatening to consume her, smell it so strongly that it forced out everything else. Conscious thought was gone, leaving her running on instinct while Asami hovered over her, so close that her breath warmed Korra’s sore, desperate body.

“Please,” she said, her voice no more than a ragged whisper. “Asami!”

And then she closed the distance between them, lightly pressing her lips to Korra’s clit. She gasped, electricity coursing through her, and had to keep from bucking her hips. Asami eased her tongue along Korra’s folds, tracing up and down and applying light pressure in response to the moans and shivers she provoked.

Korra squeezed tight at the stockings binding her wrists, lost in sensation, and the metal posts of the headboard began to twist. Asami didn’t notice, instead alternating between lapping up Korra’s arousal and lavishing her clit, pulling back whenever she felt Korra teetering too close. She whined and mewled, trying to push her hips up whenever they parted, but Asami hovered just out of reach, smirking while her makeup began to smudge.

She put her fingers on either side of Korra’s clit, pressing and releasing so agonizingly slowly that Korra felt tears building up again. “Beg,” Asami murmured, tweaking her fingers to adjust the pressure.

“Asami, I’m begging you,” she said, her voice rising and falling in time with Asami’s squeezing. “I’m begging you, please! I need to come!”

Satisfied with the pained, gasped plea, Asami obliged, dipping back down and lapping her tongue at Korra in slow, gentle circles. Korra pressed her hips upward, aching to feel her more deeply, gripping the silk stockings while every muscle in her body tensed.

With one last flit of Asami’s tongue, Korra felt the pressure in her rise to a fever pitch and then burst as her orgasm ripped through her. Pure pleasure poured out, tremors wracking her arms and legs, tears snaking down her cheeks while Asami jerked back from the rush of arousal hitting her face.

“Ah, s-sorry,” Korra said shakily, still twitching as she rode out the aftershocks. Asami only smiled and crawled back up, claiming Korra’s lips with her own as she undid the restraints. They fell away, and with her hands free Korra grabbed Asami around the waist, pressing them together as close as she could. Asami was so warm, so shaky, so deliciously soft that Korra wanted to hold her tight forever. Their tastes mingled in her mouth, and the raw nerves all over her only served to sharpen the sensation. Asami’s leg brushed against her oversensitized clit and Korra jolted, rolling them both over onto their sides.

“Don’t leave,” Asami whispered, running her hands through Korra’s hair.

“Never.”

⁂

Drifting slowly out of sleep and into coherence, Asami clutched at her bed sheets, reaching for Korra. She found one bare, muscled leg near her shoulder, and she nestled closer to it. A deep, relaxing sensation spread through her neck, washing away the soreness that had kept sleep from coming easily. Rain pattered against the window as she opened her eyes and saw Korra sitting up beside her, hand moving over her throat.

“Hey,” Asami said, looking up and blinking the sleep out of her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Not sure. Sunrise was a little while ago.”

“Morning person?” Asami asked. “You sure like sitting over me when I wake up, don’t you?”

She squeezed Korra’s leg and shifted under the covers. “Very much not a morning person. Mornings are evil. I got up to get some water. There were some…bruises on your neck. I might’ve squeezed too hard.”

There was no good way to look at what Korra was doing with her hand, but the feeling of moisture rolling back and forth over her skin made it very clear. She had half a mind to protest, to say that she didn’t need any waterbending healing, but it was too pleasant to consider. Deeply intimate, too, lying there naked while she let Korra touch one of the most vulnerable parts of her body with complete and utter trust. Finally Korra snaked the water back into a waiting container on the nightstand, satisfied with her work.

“You squeezed just fine.” Asami sat up, leaning on one hand, and planted her lips on Korra’s, pulling her into a soft, slow kiss. She was sweet and tangy and a half dozen other things, and Asami couldn’t remember ever tasting something half so wonderful. They drifted apart, beaming with goofy grins and furtive, hungry glances. “Let me grab the paper and get us some breakfast.”

She hopped out of bed and made a small show of slipping on her bathrobe, guiding it onto her shoulders and cinching the waistband to accentuate her hips. Korra gave her a low growl of approval as she left the room and took the stairs two at a time to the entry hall. Part of her demanded to dwell on what had happened, to worry over the consequences, but it was a small part, and easily silenced.

Her butler Hideki had already brought the newspaper in to keep it away from the rain, and Asami grabbed it from the table in the foyer before poking her head into the kitchen. He was there, preparing a noodle soup with some fresh beef and vegetables.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he said, doling out a ladleful of soup into a bowl.

“It sure is. That smells good, make up two bowls. And two glasses of soy milk.”

There was a brief moment where he pondered the unusual request, but then made the second bowl and poured the milk. Asami piled it all onto a tray, thanked him, and whisked it away without another word. Her heart skipped a beat as she almost floated up the stairs, wondering how long it had been since she felt so good.

Korra was sitting at her desk when she returned, examining the small spirit vine from the disassembled shock glove. She hadn’t dressed yet, which was more than fine with Asami. Once she set down the tray, she leaned over Korra and wrapped her arms around her, taking in the scent of her hair while Korra reached back with her free hand and squeezed Asami’s shoulder.

“This is the power source for those gloves?” she asked.

“No, it still uses a regular battery. The vines only amplify and direct the energy. Once it’s passed through the vine, it’s very drawn to chi paths in the body. Knocks bending out for three or four days at the standard setting. After we bought out Varrick Industries, we found all of this in crates behind their research and development department.”

“Chi blocking made easy,” Korra said, rolling the vine between her thumb and forefinger. “How much power does it produce?”

“That’s the tricky part.” Asami took the vine in one hand and an electrode in the other. “At a low voltage, the output almost doubles. With higher voltages, it triples. The effect increases exponentially until it hits a certain limit.”

“What happens then?”

“Um…it explodes.”

She looked back at Asami. “These things are bombs waiting to go off? And you wear them?”

“The gloves can’t be fine-tuned in the field, and the power yield we use is well into the safe zone. We just haven’t isolated the exact point where the vine undergoes…rapid unplanned combustion.”

“That’s a fancy way of putting it.”

“As long as they’re put together properly and the vines aren’t overloaded, they’re not dangerous. Not to the user, anyway.”

Her assurance seemed to placate Korra, and Asami pulled her back over to the bed before getting the tray. “Beef noodle soup okay?”

They sat and had their breakfast, offering bites to each other before Asami set her bowl down. Without their hormones racing, there were issues they had to discuss. “They know who you are, Korra.”

“Who?”

“My people. I told them to find you last night before I came home.” Asami ran her hands through her hair. “I don’t know what Mako’s doing, but the Council has to be looking, too.”

“I already ran into the police, they were on my boat. One of them scorched my jacket. And now the Equalists are hunting me, too.”

“Well, this is probably the last place they would look,” Asami said, but Korra was already holding her head in her hands, rocking back and forth as she drew her knees up under her chin. “Hey, Korra, look at me. You’ll be okay. You’ll—oh, no.”

Asami grabbed the newspaper from the nightstand, eyes widening as she read the headline.

_NORTHERN WATER TRIBE CHIEF ASSASSINATED_

Korra took the paper, hands trembling so badly that it fell into her lap. “No…no, no, no. I thought I had more time, what are they doing?”

“Take a breath, who’s ‘they?’ More time for what?”

She put a hand over her mouth, blinking back tears. “I don’t think you want to know all the nasty details.”

They shifted on the bed, and Asami took Korra’s hands in hers. “You trusted me before with your life. Trust me now.”

Korra swallowed the lump in her throat and took a deep breath. “Okay. I came to Republic City to work through my airbending block and to kill the people I told you about. The Council, the police commanders, the United Forces generals and admirals. I didn’t know you had killed Amon already, but he was on my list, too. First I got over my airbending problem. Turns out I just needed to be protecting someone.”

“Me.” For all the distaste she held for holier-than-thou Air Nomads and their bending, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat flattered. Asami laced their fingers together.

“Yeah. Then there was the bigger issue. I staked out City Hall, the police headquarters, the naval base at the northern docks. Every night we weren’t doing something, I did that, looking for openings. But the whole time, what you had told me kept nagging at me.”

Asami cocked her head.

“What you said about power vacuums. About the remaining Equalists all rallying behind you as their new leader. What would stop that from happening on a larger scale, over and over again? I tried to keep from thinking about it, but I couldn’t,” Korra said, her gaze slipping back to the newspaper.

“I’ve always been told how oppressive government systems are, but…seeing those Councilors bicker like that? I’m surprised they can even run the United Republic, let alone oppress anyone. The Avatar is supposed to be a force for good, for balance. What good would a constant cycle of murders do? The Avatar shouldn’t be a murderer.”

Tears trickled down her face. “And I found out my parents were still alive. Tenzin told me. My father’s even the chief of the Southern Water Tribe. They let me believe that I killed my parents in a fire twenty years ago.”

“Who let you believe that?”

“Zaheer and the others. The Red Lotus. The people who raised me after that.” Her voice began to crack. Asami looked at the scars crisscrossing Korra’s body. “I thought they were my family. They lied to me about everything. They stole my childhood so they could turn me into…into some kind of weapon.”

Asami untangled their hands and put her arms around Korra, cradling her. _This poor girl_ , she thought. “You’re not a weapon, understand? You’re a person. What did you mean when you said you thought you had more time?”

Korra nuzzled into Asami’s shoulder, holding tightly onto her. “Republic City was supposed to be their staging area to hit the other countries. It’s close to everything else, plus most of the Air Nation is here. I was supposed to clear the way for them. But they started already, I don’t know why.”

“Well, not for nothing, but Chief Unalaq wasn’t exactly beloved. It might not be them.”

“The timing isn’t a coincidence, it has to be them. Even if it isn’t, they’ll be coming here.”

“Okay. Let’s get dressed and we can get this figured out. There might be something the Council can do about this.”

They got up out of bed and picked up the clothes they had strewn about the night before. “I can’t believe that going to the government actually sounds like a good idea right now,” Korra said, examining some singing on the sleeve of her jacket. “Hope they don’t mind that I beat up some of their officers…hey, do you have any more wraps? These are trashed.”

“We’re almost the same size, why don’t you pick something out of the drawer there. Take whatever you like, I’m sure they’ll hold up a little better than your wraps.”

She was looking through the dresser, cocking an eyebrow at all the lace on the bras, when the phone rang. Asami took it from its hook, wondering who would call her on her day off. “Sato.”

“It’s Fù. We searched the boat and watched it all night, the Avatar never showed up.”

Her heart fell out of her chest. Reality came flooding back in, consequences and all. She tried to speak, but the words seemed caught. All the color from her face drained away, and Korra gave her a concerned look.

“There was one of those airbending designs painted on the deck, though.”

“A Bagua circle?” she asked, choking it out.

“Yeah. We’re on our way to search the temple. Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

The line went dead.


	11. Enemy at the Gates

“Where do you want to start looking?”

Mako pointed to the docks on the map in answer to Shen’s question. “Last known location. It’s the best lead we have, and even if they’re not there we might find a shipping ledger. Future Industries has too many warehouses for us to pick one at random and hope for the best.”

“We could wait for backup,” Kija said. Always cautious, Kija. Normally Mako appreciated that, but it was hardly a normal situation. “Stake out the warehouses.”

“It needs to be now.” Mako jabbed the map more insistently. “Before the trail goes cold. Too many people are tied up fighting Equalists out there, anyway. We go in loud, find these vines, and destroy them.”

Shen crossed her arms. “Do we even know _how_ to destroy them, boss?”

“That part we can figure out later. First we need to find the things. We’ll put four people on each side of the warehouse, all go in at once, and tear through every box until we find them. I’m not interested in making this look like anything else, but I certainly wouldn’t stop anyone from ripping up the floor once we’re done.”

“And if there are Equalists there?” Kija asked. “Or Sato?”

He paused, drawing his hands back to his sides. There was no good way to answer that question. Shen and Kija knew him well, they might have understood, but there were a dozen other people in the room and none of them were in the business of rewarding visible weakness. He didn’t want Asami dead. He didn’t even want her hurt, but some of that was inevitable. The only goal he could focus on was finding the spirit vines and getting rid of them.

“Let me deal with Sato. Open season on everyone else.”

_There, that was vague enough._

Most of them grumbled their approval at being allowed to go after Equalists with abandon. Shen raised an eyebrow and gave him a quizzical look, which Mako might not have minded if she hadn’t been so tall and plainly visible to everyone else.

“Anything to add?”

She said nothing at first, and Kija began shuffling everyone else out. When only the three of them remained, it turned out that she did have something to add. “Stopping insurrections usually works by getting rid of their leaders.”

“And organizations usually work best when the lieutenants aren’t questioning their leaders.”

Kija slumped in a vain attempt to look smaller as he moved behind Shen. “What _will_ you do if she’s there, boss? They put five of our people in the hospital yesterday. No one’s going to be happy if you end up giving your old girlfriend a slap on the wrist. They want blood,” she said.

Mako nodded and slowly moved around his desk until he was advancing on Shen, leaving her to back away and stumble over Kija behind her. “You want someone worse replacing her? Asami is manageable. She has too much to lose by being too brazen against us or the police. The last thing I want is another zealot running around, stringing up benders. And if you _ever_ try this again you’d better run back to the Terra triad because—oh, wait. They don’t exist anymore, do they?”

He knew the trick to cowing Shen was to ignore her height completely. Getting so close that she bumped her chin into her collarbone looking down always worked well. They stared each other down for a moment, but she broke first. She always broke first. Mako knew the day she didn’t would be the day when he would work for her.

“No, boss. They don’t.”

“Smart. Kija, we’re loading up. Four trucks, four routes. You drive. We’ll take Seventh Street.”

“That runs right by City Hall,” he said, motioning to the map on the desk.

“You’ll drive fast.”

They followed Mako out of the office without another word, and then out into the property’s motor yard. Rain splattered on them, and apart from Kija no one looked particularly pleased with the weather. A few of their firebenders were huddled under an awning while the drivers retrieved the keys for their trucks.

“It’s water, it’s not going to kill you,” Mako said as he passed them. “Let’s move it!”

The trucks hummed to life, and Mako sat in the front of his beside Kija while Shen and Xi kept their balance in the back. One truck split off at Yu Street, another at Bagong Avenue, and the third at Xiongdi Street. The roads were quiet apart from the howl of the wind and the constant patter of rain on the windshield. Most of the other vehicles they passed were police transports or delivery trucks. Everyone else seemed to want to avoid the foul weather and the fighting that had plagued the night.

Mako tapped his fingers on the window while they waited at a light to turn onto Seventh Street. The sidewalks were nearly clear, and whatever Equalists his people had reported during the night had slunk back into their hideouts. Asami wasn’t foolish enough to have them operating in the daytime so close to his territory, even with the tension between them at a fever pitch.

They were almost clear of City Hall when the road split beneath them, shattering and forcing them off the road. Kija fought to control the skid, but their front end barreled into an empty news stand all the same. They came to a sudden stop, and the engine made an insistent knocking sound before falling silent.

“Everyone still alive?” Mako asked, pushing himself away from the dashboard.

Shen got to her feet and helped Xi up before looking out through the windshield. Newspapers plastered the glass, all flooded with the same headline about the Northern Water Tribe chief. “What was that? Equalists?”

“Not unless they started recruiting earthbenders,” Kija said, pointing to the road beyond his window. Their lane was shredded, ripped to uselessness while the surrounding area was untouched.

Mako tried opening his door, but part of the side panel had warped. He kicked it off its hinge and stumbled out of his seat, squeezing between the truck and a building wall to get back onto the road. In front of them, where the warping in the road began, stood a solitary figure coming out of an earthbending stance.

“Bolin.” There was no malice in his voice, only an embittered resignation barely audible over the rain pouring down around them.

“Go home, Mako,” he said.

“Lin bugged my office, didn’t she?”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re not going to tear my city apart for the sake of your vendetta.”

The back door of the truck opened, and out spilled Kija, Shen and Xi. “If you think for one second that this is _your_ city, you haven’t been paying attention. Those weapons shouldn’t exist and you know it, Bolin! I’m going to get rid of them before they have a chance to kill anyone.”

“Equalists weren’t the ones killing off all the other triads.”

Lightning flashed through the sky, and thunder clapped shortly after. “I’m not going to stand here and listen to your sanctimony. There’s blood on your hands, same as mine. Now get out of my way.”

“Can’t do that, bro,” he said, a frown growing on his face. They were advancing on one another, bursts of flame swirling around Mako’s hands while pieces of the road circled Bolin’s.

“Protecting your biggest contributor? Don’t waste my time with that. Who do you think they’ll use those weapons against? They’re not going to stop with me and my people. I’m sure they’ll work fine against the police and any bending Councilors.”

“Then we get them off the streets slowly, Mako, and legally! Cut the contracts with the police, make a media storm about them. I’m not going to have you fighting a shadow war with Future Industries, and you’re not going to that warehouse.”

“And you’re going to stop me?” Mako asked, turning his body slightly to drop into a firebending form. Bolin swallowed hard and took up his own stance.

“If I have to.”

_Don’t do this, Bolin. Please don’t do this._

Mako glanced back at his people, who were watching intently, but making no motion to interfere. “Go. I’ll be there soon.”

They turned away with some reluctance, but the truck folded in on itself before they could climb back in. Mako’s eyes widened as he turned back, where Bolin had changed his footwork from that of solid, rooted earthbending to a lighter, more fluid stance.

“You got some new tricks.”

“Beifong can actually stand being around me long enough to teach me a thing or two.”

His restraint was beginning to fade. “Go,” Mako barked. “I’ll deal with this.”

Shen, Kija and Xi slipped down a side street while Mako turned on his brother. “Get out of my way. You can’t beat me, Bolin. You never could.”

“We never fought in the rain, either.”

Mako grimaced. The air was too humid to effectively carry a flame very far, he knew, to say nothing of the water all around them, ready to snuff out any fire. Lightning was another option, but it too was unpredictable in rain and humid air, arcing off course as often as it found its target. Not wanting to electrocute his brother was also a point against it.

“You’ll never be able to go after Future Industries, Bolin. Asami will get another Councilor elected in your place. That’s why you keep me around, remember? I do the hard things that you can’t because of one thing or another hamstringing you. I do your dirty work because you’re Republic City’s golden boy and I’m some thug from the street. What’s changed?”

His only response was to tear up a larger section of the road, holding it at the ready. Mako gave him a slow nod as understanding rushed through him.

“I have to be on my best behavior because you got me out. That’s it, right? Sorry, but I can’t play the repentant screw-up big brother right now. I have more important things to focus on than preserving your image,” Mako spat.

“Please don’t make me do this.” Bolin’s expression faltered. “You’re my brother. I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t,” Mako said, walking toward him. They locked eyes, the world slipping away around them, and he passed Bolin by, wavering only when the piece of road dropped back to the ground. It was a risk, he knew, but without all the trappings of the office, Bolin was still just his little brother. Mako breathed a sigh of relief as he walked by, drowned out by the rain.

“I’m sorry,” Bolin mumbled, and large chunks of earth shot toward Mako, wrapping around his wrists and ankles. Sparks flew from his tightening fists, which fell to his sides from the sudden extra weight.

“No, you’re not,” Mako said, turning around and charging him. His mind was muddled with hurt and anger, but clarity of purpose was enough. Energy surged from the fire chakra in his stomach, channeled up into his right arm, and with great effort he leveled his hand at Bolin. The muscles and bones in his arm surged, shaking as they always did, and lightning erupted from his fingertips. Bright blue-white light surged and forked through the air, casting garish shadows as it split wildly. It faded before connecting, losing too much power as it divided, but it served its purpose. Bolin stumbled back, closing his eyes to avoid the flash and throwing his arms up to brace against an impact that would never come. Mako ran past him, breathing hard from the added burden of the restraints.

After several twists and turns down side streets, he stopped at the corner of a building and smashed the stone on his wrist against the wall. The shock that carried up his arm and into his shoulder stung, but he threw them toward the wall again and again. One cracked, and then the other. His wrists were bloody and raw, but he paid them no mind as he did the same for the crude cuffs on his ankles. The pain and limpness in his legs was an afterthought as he started running for the docks.

⁂

_Please don’t be too late, please don’t be too late…_

Korra sat with her hands under her thighs as Asami’s car sped toward the docks, blowing through red lights and weaving through traffic in the few spots where people were still driving. The windshield wipers flew back and forth as the rain came down, and both of them were still soaked from the brief walk from Asami’s house to her garage. Korra had offered to bend the water off, but Asami refused.

“The docks on the island open up onto a courtyard,” Korra said, trying to keep the image clear in her head. “The temple’s right beyond that, but there are areas off to the side.”

She looked at Asami, who frowned. “I know. We do their maintenance and construction. All the architectural plans are in my office. If anyone from the engineering team is already there, they’ll know that island as well as any of the acolytes.”

Korra bumped her head on her window. “Great. Can’t you call them off? Say I popped up somewhere else? I swear, if Tenzin’s other kids get hurt…”

“I wasn’t in charge when that happened.” Asami turned down a street that led into the harbor district. “I wasn’t even in the city when they took that girl’s airbending. We focus on triads now.”

They took another sharp turn. Ahead the road ended and the boardwalk began. “And no, I can’t call them off. Most of them aren’t loyal to me personally, they’re loyal to the idea. I organize things and provide material support. Everyone already knows I’m the head of the biggest company in the country, so I don’t have the same kind of freedom that Amon did.”

Sighing, Korra ground her foot into the floor mat, making the knife in her boot bump against her ankle. _Wish I hadn’t dropped my armor._ “How are we going to do this?”

“What do you mean?”

She motioned to Asami’s uniform and tapped the shoulder pad. “Won’t they turn on you if we show up together? This giant _equal_ symbol isn’t exactly subtle.”

“I would’ve been able to find something else if you hadn’t rushed me out of the house.”

Her voice was cold. She was talking to an Equalist again, not Asami. Korra’s shoulders slumped.

With a loud _screech_ , the car’s brakes locked and they slid to a stop. Korra wasted no time in throwing her door open and running onto the pier. Air Temple Island was still visible out in the bay through the storm, but only barely. Asami came after her, strapping on a spare shock glove as she ran.

Her boat rocked in the waves, but she knew it would take too long to navigate the chop on the bay. Korra focused on the air at her feet and leapt forward over the water, flinging herself out into the bay. When she looked back, she saw Asami waiting at the end of the pier for a moment before jumping onto her boat.

_Who are you going to help?_

With a flick of her wrist, the water beneath her froze, and after landing on the disc of ice she launched herself forward again. Boats and bison were scattering from the island in all directions, cutting through the downpour in a mad dash to escape. One bison swooped off to her side, and she landed in the saddle of another.

Time slowed as she drew up the air to jump again. She was in the saddle for no more than a second, but she saw Jinora, nearly catatonic with her head in her hands, Pema latched onto the rest of her children, and Tenzin on the bison’s head, pulling on the reins to keep it steady in the wind. They looked up at her, but then she was gone again, windmilling her arms to keep steady in the air.

_It got Jinora off the island…it must be bad._

“A cruiser,” Korra said, kicking downward with a blast of fire to cushion her landing on the low stone dock. To her right was a small ship, painted black and adorned with the same _equal_ character as Asami’s shoulder pads. “Of course they have a cruiser.”

She ran up the steps, taking them three at a time, and finally burst into the courtyard while sparks swirled around her hands. At least a dozen masked Equalists were out in the rain, with more surely inside the temple. There was a brief moment where none of them noticed her, focusing instead on demolishing some spinning gates and kicking their way through the foliage in search of her. Korra tore up a fist-sized chunk of the ground and hurled it toward the gates, catching one of them in the head.

“Hey! Looking for me?”

No sooner had a few of them turned around than a larger stone crashed into the ground at their feet, sending them scattering. The commotion drew the attention of the others, and she was quickly pressed in against the stairs.

“Come on, come on,” she said under her breath, taking up a guarded stance. Fù—Asami’s lieutenant, she remembered—stood in the middle of the semicircle, taking his kali sticks out of their holster on his back. Others had shock gloves, and a few twirled bolas. Violet energy crackled around all of their weapons, and Korra kept her head on a swivel to watch them all. “There. You found me. Now leave.”

“I knew all we had to do was hit the temple to get you to crawl out of your hole,” he said, taking a step toward her. The others followed his lead, advancing on her while the rain soaked through their uniforms. Korra nearly stumbled when she found her foot at the top of the stairs and they continued to box her in. “Your past life browbeat you about it?”

“We’re not on speaking terms.” Korra slammed her foot into the ground and sent a ripple out through the stone as easily as if it were water, moving them all back. “The airbenders haven’t done anything to you! Your fight is with the triads, why are you trying to destroy the temple?”

He shrugged. “Bending is bending. Why waste the opportunity?”

Korra gritted her teeth, lightning jumping from her arms and hands. “Haven’t you done enough to these people? If you want a fight, then fight me.”

“Gladly.”

One of the Equalists at the edge of the semicircle lobbed their bolas at her, energy radiating as it whipped through the air. Korra drew her arms in, directing her chi, and thrust them out, sending lightning ripping through the air. One prong connected with the string of the bolas and traveled to the center, overloading the spirit vine within and blowing it up with the violence of a thunderclap.

“Careful, I hear those aren’t too stable,” she said, but another Equalist with a shock glove was already charging her. Korra ducked, missing the shocking aperture by a hair, and struck him in the side, sending punches up from his hip to his shoulder. The fingers of the glove straightened out and his arm went limp before Korra slammed her boot into his chest and sent him flying back.

Another bolas came whipping toward her. Korra ripped a pillar from the ground to block it, but it cost her the line of sight she had on two of the Equalists. She glanced back at the stairs once more, waiting for Asami, but she had yet to appear.

“Damn it,” she muttered, and pulled in the rain around her. A few more Equalists came running out of the temple as twin coils of water encircled Korra. She turned to one end of the semicircle to catch them all in one fell swoop, but fists flew into her back, and the water faltered for a moment before falling uselessly to the ground as her waterbending chi path locked up.

Korra grimaced and changed her stance, drawing in her elbows and turning her palms out. A rush of air blew from her hands, putting down two Equalists, but a bolas wrapping around her cut it off. She stumbled, trying desperately to keep her balance as the strings tightened and bound her arms to her sides. The balls topping the strings twisted and wrapped over her abdomen, binding her securely no matter how she strained.

With a grunt, she jumped and brought her feet down as hard as she could, drawing up a sharpened bit of stone to cut through the strings. It was rough, and dug into her side as much as the string, but the bolas fell away before it could shock her. A bit of blood dripped onto the ground, only to be quickly washed away by the rain.

“Enough!”

The thought of marring the temple any further distressed her—probably as much of a connection with Aang as she was going to get, she thought—but she couldn’t fight a dozen people at once. Korra lowered her stance, but flattened her hands rather than tightening them into fists. She focused on the ground between her and the Equalists, grasping at the energy in the earth while she moved through a modified waterbending form. Bright red fissures appeared in the ground, hissing and throwing up steam when the rain hit them, and expanded outward, snaking through gaps in the stone.

Korra pushed through the wetness and the heat blasting her all at once, and smirked when she saw the Equalists backing away in barely-restrained panic. One of them broke ranks and ran back to the temple, while the others seemed only slightly more confident.

“How…” Fù began.

“I’m no triad.”

She brought her hands up, taking the lava along with it, and balled them into fists to cool it back into stone. Seven blackened, glassy obelisks stood between her and the Equalists before she stamped her foot and thrust her arms out, sending them into the remaining assailants. Fù dodged the pillar meant for him and charged her, turning his kali sticks around and jabbing her in the side. Korra cried out and dropped to one knee as she spun around, but he recovered first and brought one stick up under her chin, digging into her throat and crushing her windpipe. She reached up, clawing blindly, but he struck her hands with the other kali stick.

“No. But you’re still only human.”

The pressure on her throat increased, making it impossible to draw breath. Her head spun, her arms felt leaden, and her burning lungs cried out for air. One side of the kali stick dug roughly into her jaw. Rain dripped onto her face, and her vision began to blur when Asami came bounding up the stairs. She stopped short, looking from one of them to the other, but made no motion to stop either of them. With the last of her strength, Korra sharply twisted the ground beneath them, enough to throw Fù off balance. The pressure on her throat faltered, and she forced herself back up, slamming her head into his chin. He staggered back, reeling, and fell still.

Korra locked eyes with Asami as she rubbed her throat and struggled to catch her breath. _Back in the real world now_ , she remembered sadly.

“What happened to the ground here?” she asked, looking at the arc of melted stone around Korra.

“Lavabending.”

Asami gave her an incredulous look, but had no chance to ask her to elaborate before another cadre of Equalists came rushing from the temple’s main entrance. They paused when they saw Asami beside Korra, but readied their weapons all the same.

“How many of them are there?” Korra asked, dropping into her airbending form. She was still breathing heavily, and the chi line for her waterbending was still blocked.

“More than the triads.”

The remaining Equalists never had a chance to move any closer. Korra thought she heard a thunderclap, but no lightning had flashed, and instead the ground near the Equalists exploded, sending blood and bits of uniforms flying through the air. Asami screamed and ducked behind Korra, who traced the thin gray line left behind by the path of the explosion. She followed it up and into the air, back to an airship that had snuck up on them in the rain. The hull was a dark blue, and in a lighter cyan was an emblem of two crashing waves, the heraldry of the Northern Water Tribe.

“No,” Korra whispered, staring on in disbelief. “No, they can’t be here yet.”

She was still repeating the words to herself as a spear shot out into the courtyard to moor the airship. It reeled itself in, the noise of its rotors lost in the storm raging around them, and the forward hatch opened. Out strolled the last person that Korra ever wanted to see again, who smiled warmly when he saw her.

“Hello, Korra.”

“Zaheer.”


	12. Rebel Spirit

P’Li and Ghazan followed Zaheer out of the airship, stepping over an Equalist lying spread eagle on the ground. They both nodded at Korra, but she stayed fixed on Zaheer while the rain beat down. Her breathing calmed, but she quickly noticed how exposed they were in the courtyard.

“This temple is larger than I imagined,” he said, stepping out from under the airship’s hull. Korra looked warily at him while he studied Asami. “I thought Amon would be taller.”

“Change in management,” she said through gritted teeth.

Korra stepped in front of Asami, breaking P’Li’s line of sight on her. “How did you know I was here? Where’s Ming-Hua?”

“The lava was kind of a tipoff,” Ghazan said.

Zaheer gestured to the airship moored overhead. “Ming-Hua’s still mopping up in the Northern Water Tribe. She insisted on being the one to kill that sanctimonious Chief Unalaq. She’ll be joining us soon.”

 _Chief Unalaq_ , she thought.  _That was my uncle, then_. “Why did you start already? You told me you’d wait. Told me you needed Republic City,” Korra said, her fists tightening behind her back.

“It’s been almost a week since we left her there, I suppose she saw an opportunity.”

“That, or she thought you were taking too long,” P’Li said. “We sure did.”

Zaheer ignored the rain washing over his face. “That’s not important. You’ve taken care of the Council, I’m sure?”

“I haven’t  _taken care_ of anyone. The Council was fine when I saw them yesterday.”

His eyes narrowed. Lightning struck out in the bay, and thunder clapped all around them. “Then what have you been doing all this time, Korra?”

The edge in his voice wounded a deep part of her that still screamed  _family_  when she looked at them, but she stayed resolute. Asami stood close behind her, shock glove still crackling. “Enjoying some of that freedom you talk about so much. What happened to my parents?”

“You know what happened. They died,” he said evenly.

Korra slammed her foot into the ground, wrenching two massive chunks of earth up into the air. A blast from P’Li destroyed one of them, but Zaheer put a hand up before she could target the second.

“What in the world…” Asami began, taking a step closer to Korra.

“Wrong answer. What happened to Senna and Chief Tonraq?”

Zaheer looked at his companions, and Korra tightened her fist until bright red fissures appeared on the remaining rock. Parts of it melted, dripping onto the courtyard and sending up steam. A large split appeared down the middle and it separated into two parts, lava glowing from where they had divided. P’Li frowned, but Ghazan looked impressed.

“I’m not going to ask again, Zaheer.”

“What does it matter? We raised you,” he said, glancing at the molten rock held between them. “Why should we have needlessly confused things? A chief for a father would have made everything more complicated.”

Korra yelled and hurled the stones at them. She knew they would never connect, but it was a relief to throw them all the same. Ghazan wrested control from her and flung the rocks harmlessly over the edge of the courtyard, leaving them to crash down into the bay. Rather than try again with earth, she lightened her stance, bringing her arms in before thrusting out at them, sending a flurry of wind toward the airship. Zaheer and P’Li struggled to keep their balance, while Ghazan managed to keep himself rooted.

“I’m glad being in the city helped you work through your airbending block,” Zaheer said after the blast subsided. “I can’t say that it’s improved your temper, though.”

“You’re going to start giving me answers.” Korra set her jaw in a hard line. “Not ‘it’s complicated,’ not ‘you’ll understand some day,’  _answers_. Or I’ll tear this island down around you,” she said through a snarl.

“Is destroying the capital of the Air Nation supposed to be a threat? I’d say it’s a welcome change from this sad display of pointless rebellion. Ask your questions, I’ll answer them. Whether you’ll like the answers is another matter entirely.”

His mouth flattened into a small smirk while Korra fumed. It wasn’t going to be that easy, she knew. Anything from him would be twisted up into the merest shadow of the truth. Just like everything else she had heard for twenty years.

“Go start the boat,” she said under her breath, and Asami receded down the stairs.

“Why me?” There was no way of knowing how long P’Li and Ghazan would let her draw on, and that was the one question she wanted answered more than anything. “The Red Lotus has some of the most powerful benders in the world. What do you think a four year-old Avatar could have done to stop you?”

“You weren’t going to stay a child,” Zaheer said, stepping back under the hull of the airship and into its shadow. “And there would have been nothing to stop the White Lotus from poisoning you into believing that you had a duty to put everything back the way it was. To undo everything we’ve been working for. A world without laws or judges, without borders or kings. I thought you understood that.”

Korra shook with rage, and the lines between the stones on the ground began running with bright red lava again. “I understand that you used me. That you tried to turn me into your own personal killing machine,” she said as sparks flew from her fists. “I am not a weapon.”

“Don’t delude yourself, Korra.” Zaheer watched the flow of lava around her, and Ghazan fought her for control of it. “You’re the perfect weapon…or you would have been. Weapons don’t think. All you are is a failure.”

His words stung, and tears mixed with the rain beating down on her face as she looked at P’Li. “How could you be okay with this? How could you, of all people, think this was right? You did the same thing to me that they tried to do to you!”

She grimaced. “We’re not warlords. None of this was for our own self-aggrandizement. It was what the world needed.”

“It was what  _you_  needed.” Korra swept her arm toward Republic City. “These people don’t want to go through hell every day to survive. They just want to live without having everything upended by constant chaos!”

“You’re conflating chaos and destruction again,” Zaheer said, chiding her. “I thought we made that difference clear. You  _are_  a chaotic force, Korra, whether you like it or not.”

He put out one hand, palm facing upward. “Creation—” He put his other hand out in the same way— “Destruction. Chaotic forces. Two halves of the same whole. Do you think your place is to bring order? Order is peace, but also sterility, stagnation, silence. A world in lockstep. The last Avatar imposed this monstrosity, this United Republic, and it was your turn to destroy it. Your turn to let people make their own way. To restore that balance, that freedom. And you failed.”

Korra clenched her jaw and slowly twisted one hand behind her back, guiding the knife in her boot up the length of her leg where it was out of their view. The motions of her wrist and fingers seemed glaringly obvious to her, and for a moment she regretted not trying harder when Ming-Hua tried to teach her psychic bending.

“No.” Korra went to rub her shoulder, grabbing the hilt of the knife as she did. Something popped in her back, and she felt the chi path there open, restoring her waterbending. “You failed.”

Lightning cracked on the bay and flashed on the metal as it flew through the air. Zaheer clutched at the side of his face with a grunt of pain, but there was no time to see how well she had found her target. She forced up a wall of stone to absorb a blast from P’Li, shattering it into thousands of pieces that hung in the air for a moment before flattening into molten discs. But by the time the smoke from the blast cleared, she was gone, jumping from landing to landing on the stairs leading to the dock.

With the noise from the storm, the dull hum of her boat’s engine seemed small and far away. She spotted Asami in the bridge and jumped onto the deck as it began pulling away into the open water. Once they were clear, Korra drew up all the water she could from around the pier and froze it under several feet of ice. A figure appeared near the top of the stairs, and a moment later the water behind the cruiser plumed up as if a depth charge had gone off beneath the surface.

Korra was ready for another shot, but P’Li disappeared from sight, and she slipped into the bridge where Asami stood at the helm. “You didn’t have to wait, you know.”

“I wanted to.”

She leaned against one of the rear-facing windows and took a moment to catch her breath, still shaking from her escape. “So you’re back to helping me? Who am I talking to right now, my friend or the Equalist?”

Asami locked the ship on its current heading and turned around so they could look at one another. “Both. I really don’t know how to feel about you right now, Korra, and this isn’t the time to get into it. I know I care for you, but I need to work through all of this, okay? Can we just focus on surviving for the moment? We’ll have that conversation, I promise.”

She ran her thumb down Korra’s cheek, provoking a shiver. “All right.”

“Those were the people you were talking about?” Asami asked, returning to the controls.

“Most of them. Ming-Hua wasn’t there, she was the one that killed my uncle last night.” The words felt strangely cold and sterile when she said them. All she could conjure up was a vague recollection of a man she met once who looked somewhat like her father. Beyond that, he was nothing more than the announcement of his death, some words on a paper. The dispassion unsettled her, and Korra had to wonder how much of it was due to her lack of contact with him, and how much of it was the way they had tried to numb her to the idea of murder. “I threw my knife at Zaheer, but I don’t think I killed him. I will. I’ll kill them all.”

“Taking a life is a hard thing to do.”

“They’re monsters.”  _Like me. Like they made me_. “Monsters don’t deserve to live.”

“What happened to my warehouse?”

Korra looked out the forward windows toward the boardwalk, where they were approaching the dock she used and Asami’s car. The warehouse’s main door had been peeled away, bent out of shape and pushed to the side. Several vans were parked around the building, all nondescript and black.

“That son of a…Mako’s really making a hard push for those weapons,” Asami muttered, cutting the throttle to begin decelerating.

Anger bubbled up inside of her, building up so fast that it made her blood boil. It was all Mako’s fault, he told Asami she was the Avatar, he got her exposed, he was complicating their escape. Residual rage helped to tunnel her vision, and she stalked out of the bridge to launch herself onto the pier.

Soft swirls of air circled at her feet to catch her, and Korra ran up the stairs without waiting to see if Asami pulled the cruiser in safely. Her fists clenched, and the vans parked nearby began to crumple. Inside the warehouse were about a dozen people, tearing through crates, looking over shipping manifests, and generally making a mess of the neat, orderly rows of containers. She recognized a few of them as she crossed the threshold, triads she had scuffled with on her late-night walks, and near the back was a man with a blood-red scarf. Beside him was a tall Earth Kingdom woman, almost of a height with P’Li if Korra had to guess, who was prying open a crate.

“Mako!”

He turned, and Korra saw cuts and scrapes on his wrists as his expression dropped. “Oh, hell.”

Korra thrust her arm out, intent on blowing them all off of their feet, but sparks erupted from her fingertips instead, arcing wildly through the humid air.  _There really, really needs to be a bigger difference between the feelings of airbending and firebending_ , she thought ruefully.

The lightning cut across the warehouse floor, singing the air and sizzling as it diverted and started toward the woman. Mako stepped into the path, pushing her away as he did, and caught the nearest arc. He forced it down through his fire chakra and out through his other hand, shooting it back in the direction it came. Korra tensed as it flashed toward her; she could create lightning without any trouble, but redirecting it had never been as easy.

Latent charge on her right hand attracted the lightning, and it coursed back into her arm as they fought for control. Mako matched every push she made to redirect the current, leaving them trapped and connected by the bright strands of energy. He was good, she had to admit. Better than her.

“Korra, the vines!”

Asami was barely audible over the crackling of the lightning, and Korra didn’t dare look away for fear of breaking her concentration. As it was, she was losing. White-hot pain flashed through her arm, so intense that it felt as if her bones were splintering, and the sleeve of her jacket began to burn away. All of the triads had stopped their searching. Some watched, most ran. Out of the corner of her eye Korra saw Asami beside her, dangerously close if a fork shot off unexpectedly.

The pain made her head spin. Her sleeve was gone, and white lines were beginning to trace up from her fingers, advancing in bursts as she lost ground against Mako. First they were at her knuckles, then her wrist, her forearm…the hair there singed away. The lines hit her elbow next, so hot that it felt cold in some spots. The muscles in her arm were in constant spasm, contracting and relaxing fast enough to add another layer of exquisite pain. The white lines were approaching her shoulder, following the path of her veins beneath her skin. Her vision blurred. There were two Makos, then four, and then one again, pushing the current back to her.

Every breath was thick with the stench of singed air. She was at her limit, unable to force the lightning back without the Avatar state that had always been locked away. The sickening feeling of sparks flitting at her heart was too much pain to bear, and she wrenched her arm away, throwing the lightning into a wall of crates. Asami’s screams were small and distant, almost muted by Korra’s own ragged breathing. She looked at the scorched crates, and the last thing she remembered was a brilliant violet light.


	13. The Avatar State

Red stained Zaheer’s hand when he took it away from his face to block out the light exploding from the docks across the bay. A great din followed with it, deafening them for a moment as they tried to recover. Above them, their airship twisted under the shockwave while the rotors tried to keep it level. The air took on a violet tinge for a brief moment, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. He stood up from his protective crouch, right eye still snapped shut in response to the gash on his cheek, and watched as debris fell into the water.

“What in the world was that?” P’Li asked, looking at Zaheer’s wound. She heated her hand and pressed it to his face to cauterize the cut, but he took a step back from her. He picked up Korra’s knife from the ground, wiped it clean, and stuck it in his boot.

“Nothing good. Looks like that’s the theme for things today.”

Ghazan went to check on the airship’s moorings while P’Li looked out toward the city. “We shouldn’t have trusted this to her,” she said.

Zaheer felt small drops of blood drip onto his shoulder. He was never going to hear the end of it, he knew. “Well, hindsight is perfect. This is a setback, but there’s no sense lamenting it. We still have a lot to do.”

“Taking out the Council ourselves, then?” Ghazan asked.

“No, they’ll have scattered by now and the police will be swarming this island soon. If not for us, then for them,” he said, nudging an Equalist with his boot. “The United Forces will want to know what a foreign military airship is doing in their territory, too. We’ll have to bide our time with the United Republic.”

“So what do we do?”

“The rest of the plan hasn’t changed.” Zaheer started up the ramp into the airship. Ghazan opened up their main anchor point once they were onboard, letting them drift slowly away from the island. “We get to a safe distance and split up. If that explosion didn’t kill Korra, she’ll be looking for us, we may have to lay low for a while.”

He headed for the ship’s infirmary, but turned back before he disappeared out of their sight. “And get Ming-Hua on the radio. Tell her to go right to the Southern Water Tribe.”

⁂

Her ears rang terribly.

There was rubble on top of her, pressing down on her legs and her torso. Most of it was cold and smooth, some kind of metal. Something had sliced along her left arm, leaving a line of sharp pain from her wrist to her elbow. She didn’t feel anything in her right arm. Rain pattered down on her face, and she drew a deep breath.

“Ah…argh!”

With no small effort, Korra bent away the debris on her and sat up, trying to work through the dull pounding in her head. Her vision was still blurry when she opened her eyes, and everything looked oddly purple for a moment. A bit of blood trickled from her mouth, and she wiped it away while she looked at her numb right arm.

The pain was numbed, but the lines remained. From the tips of her first two fingers to her shoulder, an intricate web flowed in sharp contrast to her skin tone. She could move her fingers, and feeling was beginning to return, followed quickly by pain. Her whole arm throbbed, but the white heat of the lightning was gone.

Something stirred nearby. Korra looked up as her vision sharpened, surveying the damage. The entire warehouse was gone, reduced to rubble by the spirit vines. A crater stood where her lightning had struck, and inside it the air seemed to ripple and shimmer. She chalked it up to the residual heat and tried to trace the noise.

Through the twisted remains of support beams and rebar, she saw Mako pulling someone out of the wreckage. A long cut above his left eye left thin lines of red streaming down his face, but he was making no effort to tend to it. Instead he kicked away part of a crate and got one of his people to their feet before sending them on.

“Mako,” she gasped out. The taste and smell of burnt wood and metal still hung thick in the air. They locked eyes, but he stumbled away before she could get up. Korra threw a punch in his direction, but the fire sputtered out in front of her. She had used up most of her chi on the lightning. He vanished behind another building while she stood, holding onto a steel beam for support.

Most of her jacket’s remaining sleeve was shredded, and she tore it off to examine her arm. The cut looked superficial, mostly pain without any lasting damage. Korra shook her head clear and took another look around. With the sun beginning to break through the clouds over the city, the gleam off the cracked lens of a shock glove caught her attention.

“Asami…”

Korra staggered over as fast as she could, still reeling from the ringing in her ears and the aching soreness in her legs. She felt horribly sick, as if her chest were in a vise, and an intermittent glow appeared in her eyes and the lines on her arm as she moved. Her legs gave out, but she was close. Korra crawled the rest of the way, clawing along the ruined floor to where Asami laid.

She was still, with thin cuts on her ear and cheek that dripped small beads of blood. A longer gash on her side above her hip was visible through a tear in her uniform, and the fabric around it had run red. Her face and clothing were covered in soot and ash, and the vine in her shock glove had exploded, leaving only a small scorch mark on the device.

“No,” Korra mumbled, choking on the word as she sat up and stroked Asami’s cheek. “You—you promised, you can’t die…you promised!”

_The Avatar shouldn’t be a murderer._

_All you are is a failure._

_Do you feel like a hero yet, Avatar?_

The rain falling down around her stopped in mid-air as she began to shake. Beneath her, the ground rumbled, and deep fractures snaked out from where she sat, extending all the way down to the pier. A bright white glow appeared in the lines on her arm and in her eyes, and sparks flew haphazardly from her body.

A rush of strength flooded in, and all the pain melted away, replaced by anger. Korra stood up under her own power, vaguely aware that she was screaming, and turned toward the bay. A dark blue pinprick was moving away from Air Temple Island, framed against the gray sky beyond. She tightened her fists and her boat rose up out of the water, hovering in place before she hurled it after the airship. Her aim was off, and it crashed into the island in a great mess of crumpling metal. She was beyond caring.

With another step toward the bay, she brought her hands up and the water with it. A wave as high as the city skyline in height rushed out, displacing the dozens of boats still moored at the other docks. It too missed the mark, colliding with the island supporting the statue of the last Avatar. The airship drifted farther and farther out of sight, leaving her with only the city to target.

People were spilling onto the boardwalk, visible off to the sides. Some of them were shouting at her, their words only a dull roar drowned out by the blood pounding in her ears. Korra turned and saw some of the Council there, along with the police. One of them, a woman with gray hair and solid black armor, shot a metal coil that wrapped around her wrist. She grabbed it, easily overpowering the woman’s hold on the metal, and whipped it back at her, striking hard at a pressure point in her neck. The wire fell limp as she collapsed, and Korra recognized the blood-red scarf on the man who grabbed her to break her fall.

 _Mako_. Her throat was dry and raw from yelling, and his name only escaped her lips as a gurgle. She made her way toward them, struggling to keep her balance as her head spun. Metal railings twisted and bent as she approached, crushed under the sheer energy radiating off of her. Her ears were ringing again. Pain slowly seeped back in, flooding along her chi paths from overexertion. Fire bubbled up in her muscles, screaming for relief. It didn’t matter. She could keep going.

Most of the people were backing away, if not running outright, but Mako stayed rooted in place with the woman in his arms. The ground beneath her feet began to melt, and lava plumed up through the cracks she had produced. Electricity crackled around her arm, and the rain around her swirled, coalesced, and froze into shards of ice that hung above her head, their points fixed on Mako.

He looked at her again, his face still bloodied, but another scuffle behind him drew their attention. Jinora broke away from her father’s grip, ducked under the police keeping everyone back, and ran until she was close enough to throw her arms around Korra in an ineffectual tackle. She was only slightly shorter than Korra, but slender enough to make barely any impact.

“Don’t do this,” she said, trying to push her back. “Don’t hurt Lin anymore. Don’t lose yourself.”

The words rung out in her mind, and a few of the ice shards wavered. Jinora held her tighter, and over her shoulder Korra saw Mako’s look of…fear? Confusion? Resignation? She couldn’t tell.

“Korra…?”

She turned back and followed the voice to where Asami stood, weakly clutching her side. Her gaze slipped from the molten sections of pavement to the ice above Korra, whose eyes and arm lost their glow almost immediately.

“You’re not a weapon,” Asami said, inching up to her. The ice shards flew out into the bay, and the red lines in the pavement cooled to black again. She had torn the shoulder pads off her uniform, Korra noticed. “Understand?”

She was on the verge of collapsing again, but Jinora held her steady, cradling their fallen, broken Avatar.

⁂

She didn’t feel as if she had the right to be there. All of the damage, after all, was her fault, one way or another. But the last thing she had resembling a home was gone, and she had nowhere else to go, so Korra sat on the boardwalk, propped against a railing. She had cleared the wreckage of the warehouse and fixed the boardwalk once the rain cleared, but the looks everyone gave her barely bothered to conceal disgust.

“Avatar Korra.”

It was a familiar voice. She looked to her side and saw Tenzin standing there, lines of worry carved into his face. Korra got to her feet, but couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eye. “Councilor. I…I hope Chief Beifong is okay.”

“She is, although she’s getting annoyed at how often she seems to get her bending stripped away by chi blocking.”

Korra cracked the faintest smile.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am about everything, Tenzin. All the lies, getting the temple damaged—” Tears trickled down her face— “I’m so sorry.”

“The temple can be rebuilt, Korra. It’s only a thing. A thing I live in, of course, but…anyway. You know, I never lost faith that we’d find the Avatar again.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, but she scowled. “You’ll have to settle for me. I don’t deserve to be the Avatar. I came here to destroy this city.”

“And did you?” he asked.

“You might be disturbed at how close I came. I was ready to burn everything to ashes before. If Jinora hadn’t grabbed me when she did…I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Excuse me, Korra?”

Asami had snuck up on them, her tattered Equalist uniform exchanged for a more sensible red and black jacket. Bandages were visible under her collar, and she winced slightly as she held out a paper bag.

“I got you some seaweed wraps.”

“You should still be in the hospital,” Korra said, taking the bag and looking inside. “And thank you.”

“The healers worked on me, I should be fine in a day or two.”

“ _You_ went to healers?”

“I still feel…weird, but it was better than laying in a hospital bed for three weeks.” She shrugged and looked at Tenzin. “Councilor, we’ll have teams on the island tonight to start rebuilding. I also blocked out two floors at the Four Elements for your family and the acolytes. No charge…for anything.”

“Thank you, Miss Sato,” Tenzin said, giving her a small nod before adding, “Guilty conscience?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Councilor.”

“These seaweed rolls are really good,” Korra mumbled, her mouth full.

Tenzin pursed his lips. “Of course not. We greatly appreciate all the help from Future Industries. And you, Korra? What are you going to do now? You’re welcome to stay with us on the island once the temple is repaired. I understand your boat was…lost.”

A large part of her boat was wedged into a cliff on Air Temple Island and they both knew it, but she appreciated his sensitivity all the same. She finished her seaweed roll and shook her head. “I got a hotel room, too. But I’m not staying long, I need to find Zaheer and the others as soon as I can. There’s no telling how much more havoc they’ll wreak while they’re out there.”

“There will have to be formal hearings to the Council before we can lend any support.”

“Based on the level of efficiency I’ve seen, we might not have that kind of time,” Korra said, looking to see how many seaweed rolls she had left. “They already hit the Northern Water Tribe, and I don’t know where they’re going next. I don’t have time to wait around for bureaucracy, and I’ll go it alone if I have to.”

Asami put a hand on her hip. “You won’t be alone. Super-powered bending anarchists? I’d never forgive myself if I missed this opportunity.”

Warmth rushed through Korra’s heart. It wasn’t the conversation she was promised, but it was something. She smiled, the first real smile she had felt in hours. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get them,” Asami said, throwing a playful mock punch. Air rushed from around her hand and struck Korra’s bag, plastering rice and seaweed all over the side of her torn jacket. She and Tenzin both looked at her, wide-eyed, but neither of them could match the horror dawning on Asami’s face.

“How…what…”

She turned toward the bay and repeated the motions, going through a chi blocking form. With each strike a flow of air audibly rushed out, and she stopped only when tears began to shine in her eyes.

“You were at the epicenter of the explosion,” Korra said, her mind racing. “And you told me those vines get drawn to a person’s chi paths.”

“Not to mention that you were probably steeped in spiritual energy from being at the air temple just before.” Tenzin let his mouth hang dumbly open. “What if this happened to others? To Jinora?”

“But I’m not…” Asami began, running her hands through her hair. Tenzin was already heading away. “I’m not a bender!”

She fell against Korra as sobs began to wrack her.


	14. Rebirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ugly._

Korra sat in the front of the shop, looking sullenly at her right arm and the complex web of lines running from her fingertips to her shoulder. Rather than fading over the past week, all they did was redden and raise slightly on her skin, making them all the more noticeable. The healers were optimistic about them fading over time, but they never seemed confident enough to look her in the eyes when they said it. Every time she talked to someone, their eyes would inevitably slip to it, and she was beginning to regret exchanging her tattered jacket for the tight blue compression vest.

It hurt, too. When the skin was free to breathe like the healers recommended, it was a dull but manageable discomfort. When she tried wearing a detached sleeve, like the one on her left arm, it became a hot throb, quickly spreading and becoming intolerable. So she left it exposed, her latest damage visible for all to see. At least Asami could cover the thin line on her side from the explosion, but then, she was having her own host of issues.

On the days when Asami even ventured out of her house, to go to her office or make plans with Korra at the hotel, she seemed in even worse sorts than she had been after the explosion at her warehouse. Her movements were stiff and slow, she barely spoke, and she looked at her hands with such unbridled disgust that Korra worried for her safety. On the first day Asami stopped by, Korra had offered to run through airbending forms with her to help her adjust. When she finally got her hearing back, Korra decided not to try that again.

“Um, Avatar Korra?”

She looked up at the clerk who called her. He had her armor folded on the counter, and she went up with her ticket. _Avatar_. The word felt bitter in her mind. She didn’t deserve that, not after everything she had tried to do.

“It’s just Korra. Everything all set?”

“Yes, we dyed the whole thing in the colors you picked out,” he said nervously, sliding it toward her. “We also made the right sleeve detachable, like you asked.”

Korra took the armor and held it up, letting it unfold and hang in front of her. She had debated throwing it away, but pragmatism won out. It would be rather fitting to go up against the Red Lotus with the tools they had given her, she thought. The red was gone, replaced by a deep navy blue and silver trim. A large white lotus adorned the chest, and straps on the right shoulder allowed the sleeve to come off completely. They had moved the metal from the sleeves to the thighs, maintaining all of its functionality. She nodded and placed it in her backpack before turning for the door.

“Send the bill to the Council,” she said. For what they were asking of her, picking up a single tailor’s bill wasn’t nearly enough. The midday streets were busy, but everyone gave her a wide berth. Tenzin had honored her request to keep her presence in the city quiet, but the press was voracious, and after only two days her face was plastered on every paper, her name in every radio broadcast. She scowled and jumped onto a passing streetcar.

⁂

As much as he hated to admit it, Bolin was right. The beard felt stupid.

Mako pushed through the last few sit-ups of the set and scooted himself back against the cell wall. He rubbed his shoulder, listening for something, anything, that might break the monotony, but the wing was silent. There was nothing left to count, like he had done the first day back. Ninety-seven sandstone bricks, one light, eleven drips from the sink every single minute. Lin had taken no small amount of glee in putting him back in his cell, but he was liable to lose his mind focusing on that too intently, and instead he had filled his week with exercise and picking at the new cut over his left eye.

She had never looked as happy as when she tossed him back in his cell. Mako had laughed bitterly over that for the first few days, before the thought made him bite back tears.

He scratched at his face, brushing over the facial hair Bolin laughed at whenever he neglected to shave. No razors, they had said. It was just as well, there was no one coming to visit him anyway. The rest of the wing was unoccupied, and the only people he saw were the guards who brought meals, escorted him to the shower every other day, and showed up whenever his bending set off the temperature sensors in the hall.

With a few deep breaths, Mako resumed his sit-ups, continuing until he heard footsteps down the corridor, making his ears prick up. It was possible that he had lost all sense of time in the small, windowless box, but it still seemed too early for dinner by far. He had already showered earlier that day, and he wasn’t bending, so there was no good reason for someone else to be in his little wing of the jail.

_Step. Step. Step._ There was a pause. _Step. Step. Step._

One person. Why would a guard be there, he wondered.

It was neither. Bolin peered into the cell, seeming quite a bit less chipper than the last time they were in the same situation. Frowning didn’t suit his face, Mako thought, but then he was used to seeing his Bolin as all smiles, the ever-cheerful little brother always intent on lightening the mood and making someone grin.

Of course, his right to call himself Bolin’s brother had been somewhat suspect since their fight, and he knew it.

Mako looked at him, abandoning his sit-ups and leaning against the side of his cot. “Hey there, Councilor.”

“Oh, not the beard again.”

It was a mirthless attempt at humor, but Mako smiled all the same. “They wouldn’t give me any razors. I guess they think I’m suicidal. Or maybe they like facial hair more than you.”

The corner of Bolin’s mouth twitched. At least he was easily susceptible to humor. Mako stood up and went to the cell door. “So what brings you by? I doubt you’re going to spring me again, unless Grandma’s making something spicy and you want to see me suffer through it.”

“Believe it or not, I _am_ getting you out of here again. But it’s not because I need you to go to dinner. And that was last night, by the way. If anyone asks, you were working overnight at a new job site in the Xian province. Upgrading the dam there or building a new dam, I forgot exactly what I told them.”

He nodded. “Sudden and indefinite. Sounds like an excuse I’d make.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“So why _are_ you here?”

“Remember last week, when you tried to electrocute me?”

“No, I only tried to make it seem like I was going to electrocute you,” Mako said in a huff. “Did you really think I would do that?”

“You’ve done a lot of things I never thought you’d do, Mako.” That stung. “Anyway, while that was happening, some anarchists, the Red Lotus or something, showed up on Air Temple Island, tried to kill the Avatar who was originally here to kill me and the rest of the Council, and then escaped after Asami’s warehouse blew up.”

Mako blinked a few times, trying to process Bolin’s seemingly perfunctory version of events. “I don’t think I’m getting all the details here…or how it relates to me. I got thrown back in here for breaking and entering—not sure how they’ll be able to prove that since the building is currently rubble—and assault with a felony bending upgrade. Anarchists and assassinations are way beyond me.”

“As I was saying,” Bolin continued, “These people already attacked the Northern Water Tribe and killed their chief, and we have it on good authority that they aren’t stopping there.”

Another set of footsteps echoed toward them from the far end of the hallway. Bolin glanced that way, but said nothing. “Who’s that?” Mako asked.

“Good authority. I’ll spare you the details, because I’m sure you’ll hear them later anyway, but the Avatar is leaving to hunt them down.”

“Interesting story,” Mako said, crossing his arms. “Don’t know why I’m hearing about it, though.”

“Because you’re coming with me.”

Korra stepped into view, and Mako’s eyes widened. She had changed out of her shredded jacket in favor of a snug blue vest, and her right arm had a red lightning scar running up the whole length from her first two fingers. He kept his breathing even under her cool gaze, but after a moment he turned back to Bolin.

“What, saving the city the expense of a trial? This is some kind of joke, right?”

“If there’s a joke here, it’s on me,” Korra said, squeezing one of the straps on her backpack. She waved her scarred hand, and the cell door shot open. “Let’s go, time isn’t a luxury I have.”

“Oh, that’s just what I need. You, me, and no witnesses. Forget it, Water Tribe.”

She frowned. “Fine. Rot in prison.”

Korra turned to leave, but Bolin moved around her to keep her from going. “Wait, wait! Mako, get out here. It wasn’t an offer, we already packed some of your things for the trip. You’re going with the Avatar and she’s not going to kill you. Right?”

“That was the deal,” she said through a grimace. “I’m hunting criminals. I need someone who can think like a criminal. Shouldn’t be much of a stretch for you.”

Mako took a single cautious step out of his cell. “Asami’s the one you should be dragging along if you want a criminal. My racket was never as successful as Future Industries.”

“Yeah, she’s coming too. That was the price of the Council’s support, getting you both out of the city. Now let’s go.”

“What’s she talking about, Bolin?” Mako asked. There was a very tense pause from his brother.

“Throwing you back in jail didn’t calm down any of the triads. Whatever fighting we managed to contain between them and the Equalists came back with a vengeance in the past few days, especially after they found out that you were in here and Asami wasn’t. The Council forced a vote, they want you two away from the city for a while so we can start getting things back to normal.”

“They’re waiting for us,” Korra said. “Conscious or not, you’re coming with me, and we’re leaving now.”

_No, I don’t have a bad feeling about this. Not at all._

Mako and Bolin followed her back to the main part of the building, rushing every so often to keep pace with her. “Is this your idea of a punishment?” Mako asked under his breath. “I make you look stupid in front of all your politician buddies and you hand me over to the Avatar? A woman who’s attacked me every single time we’ve crossed paths? Who tried to kill me at least twice?”

“It seems to be going okay so far,” Bolin said, smiling to himself. “And despite what you might think, this isn’t about you. This is about what’s best for the city and the United Republic.”

“This is about what’s best for you.”

Bolin shrugged while Korra opened the door back to the processing area. “In this case, our interests happen to align.”

Intake was filled with cops, most of whom Mako knew by name. Some of them took his bribes, some of them were annoyingly idealistic, and at the main door stood Lin, drumming her fingers on the sleeve of her armor with an icy glare. The snippets of conversation he caught when they walked in died down, and the thick tension only broke when Lin spoke up as they neared her.

“I’m asking to put revolving doors on all the cells next week, Councilor,” she said. “Seems like it’d be faster.”

“Very funny. You’ve made your feelings on this perfectly clear, Chief.” They stopped in front of her, and Mako suddenly felt very small. Everyone else was working on a much larger stage than he was, and now he felt more like a puppet in some scheme he didn’t fully understand than the boss he had been a week ago. “The Council outvoted me.”

“You’re asking for a war in my streets. And you,” Lin began, turning her withering gaze back on Mako, “Don’t think for one second that you’re off the hook because you got dragged along on this.”

“Bye, Lin.”

His use of her name and almost resigned tone made something flash in her eyes that another person might have mistaken for softness, but Mako knew better. “You had so much potential,” she snapped, and stormed off to another room.

They left the building and headed for a waiting car, but their path was quickly blocked. Shen accosted them on the steps down from the station, and while Bolin wove around her, Mako and Korra stopped.

“Everything okay, boss?” she asked, eyeing Korra.

“It’s all fine, Shen. I have some…community service to do with the Avatar here. Not sure when I’ll be back, can you look after things until then?”

She nodded and stood aside. Korra went by, joining Bolin in the car, while Mako hung back for a moment. “Take what you need from my office,” he whispered to his lieutenant. “Burn the rest.”

Bolin had climbed into the passenger seat, while Mako and Korra shared the back. She rubbed her scar as they pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic. “I took your brother, now for that political support you promised me. What have you heard?” she asked.

“Chief Eska didn’t even wait to hear our whole request before she gave the order,” Bolin said, turning around in his seat so he could see them. “Ming-Hua is persona non grata and no longer enjoys any protections as a citizen of the Northern Water Tribe. Eska said that if you bring her back, it had better be in pieces.”

“And the others? Ghazan?”

“We haven’t heard from Ba Sing Se yet.”

“P’Li? Zaheer?”

Bolin shook his head. “Fire Lord Izumi contacted us yesterday. She told us that the Diet won’t sanction assassinations against two nationals, and neither will she. They abolished the death penalty decades ago, so that wasn’t a surprise.”

“I don’t care what they will or won’t sanction. No one’s going to be safe as long as those two are alive. She and the Diet are all targets as far as they’re concerned.”

“There’s too much politicking in the United Republic for me to worry about it over there, Avatar,” he said. “You’ll have to take it up with the Fire Lord yourself. If they were still in the country, we could arrest them as accessories to Chief Unalaq’s murder. Assuming we could find and capture them, of course.”

Korra clenched her teeth and looked out the window. Mako watched her, trying to process everything. “Well, a few days with Republic City’s finest wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but hunting down terrorists seems much more exciting.”

“Mako?” Korra asked, looking back at him. She pushed over in her seat towards him until they were uncomfortably close.

“Yes?”

“That thing you’re doing, where you move your mouth and sound comes out?”

“Talking?”

“Yeah.” She moved back to her side of the car. “Don’t do that.”

He rolled his eyes, and the rest of the ride passed in stolid silence.

The car pulled up to the docks, near the ferry stop where Asami’s warehouse had been until they destroyed it. _No,_ Mako reminded himself. _She was the one throwing lightning. They’ll only blame me for it._

At the dock was a group he could only assume was meeting them. Councilor Tenzin and one of his daughters were there with an enormous bison, Asami was leaning on a railing, looking more dejected than Mako had ever seen, and a woman from the Council police with a fading black eye jogged up and opened Bolin’s door as the engine cut out. She noticed him in the back seat, and he blanched. _Of course it had to be her._

He followed Bolin and Korra onto the pier, where Asami nudged a bag at him with her boot. It was one of his from his house, with his scarf tucked into a pocket on the side. Mako picked it up while Korra approached the cop, who was looking pointedly away from her.

“Mei, right?” she asked.

The woman nodded slowly. “Mei Kimura, Council police.”

“I wanted to apologize for last week,” she said, motioning to Mei’s eye. “I was a little freaked out when I found you on my boat.”

“You put my friends in the hospital. Ayane is still there. She was bleeding into her lung when we got her admitted and she’ll be lucky to even get back to desk duty. And what is the Councilor’s brother doing here with you?”

“Good to see you too, Mei.” _I wonder if they’ll trot out any more of my exes._

Korra frowned. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“For all the good that does her. Both of you ought to be in jail, and her too,” Mei said, pointing in Asami’s direction. Bolin stepped up to them, but Korra cut him off before he could speak.

“Asami didn’t do anything!”

“You’re too far gone if you think she’s anything close to innocent.”

“Enough,” Bolin said. “I’ve already gotten an earful about this from Beifong, Captain. I don’t need you fanning the flames, too. You still work for us.”

Mei pursed her lips. “Yes, sir. Then may I politely inquire as to why Mako is out and about with you—again—rather than sitting in his cell?”

“He’s going with Miss Sato and the Avatar,” Bolin began, and Mako could swear he saw a vein in her temple pop. “We all voted on this, including your mother. Our hope is that them being gone will help settle things here a bit. We decided that the well-being of the city was more important than having him serve out his sentence right away. There were political realities to consider.”

Her expression twisted up into a glower. “Political realities…you know why people don’t like politicians, Councilor? Phrases like that. ‘Political realities.’ Big important-sounding stuff that means nothing. How about the political reality of the citizens losing faith in you when they find out you let two gang leaders off without so much as a slap on the wrist?” Mei unpinned the badge on her uniform and threw it at his feet. “ _Fuck_ your political realities. I won’t be a party to this.”

She stalked off and along the boardwalk, shooting them all dark glares as Bolin followed after her. Tenzin shook his head and came up to Korra. “There are going to be more people who aren’t happy that we’re doing this,” he said. “This is a lot of trust we’re placing in you, Korra.”

“Don’t worry.” She shrugged off her backpack and opened one of the side pockets. “I’ll find them. I’ll kill them. Here, for your library. I was going to burn it, I feel sick when I look at it, but it’s something for the new Air Nation.”

Mako peered over her shoulder and saw a small book in her hand, heavily worn and marked up, with an etching of wind on the cover. Tenzin took it and thumbed through the middle, his beard pricking up in response to his smile.

“This is one of the oldest editions, thank you.” His expression dropped slightly. “You’ve read this whole book?”

“Several times.”

“Then you know what it says about journeys of revenge?”

Korra bristled, and they all looked at her. Even Asami, morose as she was, turned toward them. Tenzin’s daughter gripped at the fur of the bison.

“I know what it says. ‘A man is not a man if he does not take his revenge.’ I know the whole proverb, Councilor, so don’t try to twist it into something about forgiveness and pacifism. What they’ve done is beyond forgiveness. They tried to make me into a weapon, they deserve to be on the receiving end. When we make landfall, I’ll dig the two graves.”

He nodded, disappointment creeping across his face. “It was worth a try. We informed the Southern Water Tribe security services about the threat, but didn’t tell them you were coming, like you asked.”

“Thank you. I guess that’s everything.”

Korra tossed her bag into the bison’s saddle, and Mako blinked. “We’re getting to the Southern Water Tribe on that?”

“Pepper is faster than a boat,” Tenzin’s daughter said as she went up to her father.

“I wish you’d reconsider leaving, Jinora.”

_Ah, that’s her name._ Mako vaguely remembered Bolin mentioning it once. She was the one who had her bending taken. “I’m seventeen, Dad. And I’m going with the Avatar, I’ll be okay. It’s just like when we visit Grandma and Aunt Kya. Besides, you should use that space in the temple for the new airbenders.”

Mako cocked his head. “I’ve been…away from the newspapers for a while, did you say new airbenders?”

Jinora nodded, bitterness plain on her face. “A hundred and four new airbenders, thanks to her.”

She jerked her head in Asami’s direction, who was trying and failing to climb up the bison’s side. Korra reached down from the saddle and hauled her up. “Mom isn’t too happy about having to share the ‘mother of the new Air Nation’ title.”

“I’m sure she’ll manage.” Tenzin knelt down and kissed her on the forehead. “Be careful, sweetie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Jinora went to her bison and hopped up into the saddle, while Tenzin looked sternly at Mako. It was the same kind of gaze that Asami’s father used to give him, but he was used to people looking disapprovingly at him.

“Councilor.”

“Please make sure my daughter gets to where she’s going unharmed, Mako.”

_Hunting people and babysitting_ , he thought. _This day gets better and better._ “She’ll be fine.”

Mako adjusted the strap on his bag and approached the bison. It looked at him and grunted before turning to sniff at him. He stood stock-still, unsure of how to react to a massive flying beast inspecting him, and after a moment it opened its mouth and drew its huge, sticky tongue up over his face.

“Ugh!”

He stepped back and tried wiping his face dry, but there was so much saliva that he only succeeded in moving it around. Everyone had a good laugh, and Jinora offered him her hand after she had positioned herself on the bison’s head.

“Aww, he likes you!”

With a quick jump, Mako grabbed her hand and swung himself into the saddle. Korra and Asami were at the back with the supplies, looking out into the bay toward Air Temple Island. “I’d hate to see what happens to people he doesn’t like.”

“You might want to hold onto something…Pepper, yip yip!”

The bison beat his tail and started for the end of the pier. Everything in the saddle shook mightily, and there was no indication of them rising into the air. Until the very last second, they didn’t seem to be heading anywhere but the water. Mako braced himself against the saddle, but the splash never came. Instead the wind picked up, rushing through his hair as they gained altitude at a head-spinning pace.

When he opened his eyes again, Mako saw Republic City beneath them, fading to white as they pushed through the clouds. He looked back at Korra and Asami, who seemed held by equal wonder, and for the first time since being released his sense of foreboding dimmed.

“This is really something, Jinora,” he said as they began to level out.

“Wait until you see a sunset from up here! Korra, do you have the map and compass? I need the heading to the Southern Water Tribe.”

“We’re not going right to the Southern Water Tribe,” Korra said, sliding up toward the front of the saddle. “There’s one stop we need to make before that.”

“Then where are we going?”

“Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"A gentleman who does not take revenge is not a gentleman. A gentleman may not take his revenge right away due to circumstances, but he will remember it every day before falling into sleep. He then shall take his revenge when the timing is right, even if he must take the whole world with him. And so before embarking on a journey of revenge, first dig two graves."_


	15. Venom of the Red Lotus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content advisory for this chapter: Mentions of sexual assault.

True to her word, Asami had set her crews working on Air Temple Island around the clock, deriving all their repairs from the original architectural plans. Tenzin worried that she might have forgotten in her fugue after the true amount of new airbenders came to light, but she put teams on the island all the same. Even in under two weeks, they were nearly finished, and the foreman estimated only a few more days of work. It would be nice to finally get out of the hotel and back home. Ikki and Meelo blasting around the roof on air scooters had already shaved untold years off Tenzin’s life, and Rohan tore through the halls at all hours, leaving Pema to chase after him.

All in all, Tenzin enjoyed his time away from the hotel.

When she still had her airbending and ventured to the mainland without any fear, Jinora enjoyed eating lunch at the base of Harmony Tower and watching the turtle duck boats on the lake. It was where Tenzin found himself with his miso soup and rice, sitting quietly with his memories. Of course, Jinora was off to the Southern Water Tribe with the Avatar, scared out of the city by Equalists invading her home, the last place she felt some semblance of safety.

He picked at his rice while a breeze carried over the lake. Soft footfalls in the grass behind him made his ears prick up, and the _clink_ of metal on metal told him who it was without looking. Lin sat down beside him with her own lunch, keeping a polite distance at first, but then shifting closer.

“Councilor.”

“Hello, Lin. I thought you preferred to eat in your office.”

“They’re putting in new lights,” she said matter-of-factly. “Kicks up too much dust. It’s a shame I couldn’t get the revolving doors I wanted.”

“I thought we went through this last week, Lin.” She glowered as she unpacked her lunch. “We need to stabilize this situation with the Equalists and the triads before any more people get hurt.”

“So taking their leaders out of the picture and letting the rest of them run around like blind vipers was your solution?”

Tenzin offered her some rice, which she accepted. “Making them work together was the goal. A show of good faith. And with what Bolin told us, the relationship between Mako and Asami was too volatile to wait for them willingly broker some kind of truce.”

“Or you could’ve issued the arrest warrants I asked for,” Lin said. “And if you had let us fire on that cruiser we could have dealt a real blow to the Equalists.”

“Too many people died in my home already. There was barely enough to identify any of them.”

Lin finished off her egg roll. “A bunch of criminals. Equalists. You have some strangely placed sympathies, Councilor.”

She looked as though she knew she had crossed a line, and Tenzin’s glare confirmed it. “You didn’t see it, Lin. All the blood, everywhere. Without the little scraps of uniforms you never would have known they were Equalists. And I let my daughter go off with those leaders, if you recall. Do you think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“I wonder sometimes.”

“Why don’t you say what’s really bothering you?” Tenzin asked, setting his meal down and looking at her. “Mako’s not in your jail cell anymore.”

He saw her jaw clench. “You mean criminals running free on the Avatar and Council’s say-so? It bothers me, imagine that. My job is to enforce the laws, then you come in flouting them and I have to take it, because you have a fancy gold pin and I don’t. So yes, Tenzin, I’m sore about you springing Mako, same as you’d be if I waltzed into the Council chamber and started telling you how to do your job.”

“Why is it so personal for you with him?” Tenzin asked, immediately wishing that he hadn’t. Lin went to grab him by the collar, but turned away instead, scowling at the lake.

“It just is.”

Tenzin expected her to get up and leave, but instead she bit into another egg roll, looking supremely unhappy with the experience. She sometimes swung between moods, he knew, but usually quickly reverted to a manageable crankiness. He finished his soup and sat quietly until she was done. She was still fuming, but she seemed to have it under control.

“I bet you were happy to get more airbenders without having to change any more diapers,” she said. Tenzin nodded.

“A hundred and four, all over the city. I only wish more of them were willing to join us at the temple once it’s repaired. We convinced about thirty, with a few more maybes.”

“So a hundred and seven airbenders now…it’s not the new civilization your father wanted, but it’s better than three. Sato must’ve been nearly catatonic.”

“I don’t think she believes our gratitude is genuine,” Tenzin said, leaning back on his hands while they looked over the lake. He felt Lin’s fingers brush at his. “She seems to think it’s something more like mockery.”

“Must be what it feels like to her. How’d Pema react?”

He took his hand away and sat up straighter. “When we got the final count, she threw her hands up and said she ‘couldn’t compete with those numbers.’ I suppose there’s some poetic propriety to an Equalist being the mother of the new Air Nation, figurative as it is.”

Lin nodded, and they sat for a while longer in silence, watching the boats in the lake as they picked at the last scraps of their lunches. They both had meetings, Tenzin knew, but the placid little spot was too welcome a respite from the upheaval of the last two weeks. “Lin?”

“Yes?”

“What made you decide to come here for lunch?”

She tensed, the motion barely visible under her armor, then shrugged. “It was nearby. It’s clean. Why?”

“Ah. I thought it might have been because this is where we had our third date.”

“Second,” Lin said, turning toward him again. “Second date. When this tower was just a bunch of girders lying in a pile and they were introducing the paddleboats.”

“I must have misremembered, then.”

Lin opened her mouth to say something, but paused. Tenzin shifted, trying to do something to distract from the tension threatening to plume up. He didn’t like the direction their conversation was taking, he didn’t like that he had taken it there, he didn’t like the looks they were exchanging as they inched closer together, and he didn’t like that he wanted it all to continue.

“Maybe you need a refresher,” she finally said, the usual edge from her voice gone. Her hand found Tenzin’s again, and the distance between them was closing slowly, agonizingly slowly, until Lin’s gaze slipped past him, her eyes narrowing. She pulled back, turning away from whatever had drawn her attention. “Behind you. Two guys by the tower base.”

Tenzin glanced back as inconspicuously as he could, and indeed there were two men standing close to one of the legs of the tower. They had their backs to him and Lin, and looked furtively over their shoulders every so often, exposing the bandannas over their mouths with large black _equal_ symbols.

“You should call for backup—”

She didn’t wait to hear the rest of his suggestion before leaping up and charging at them, coils flashing from her wrists. Tenzin got to his feet and called after her, but there was little he could do but follow.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

One of the men ran while the other turned back and caught Lin’s coil around his neck, striking through his bandanna. He jerked forward as Lin pulled back on the cable, but then his shock glove clamped down on it, blue sparks flying and coursing back toward her.

“Lin!”

Her whole body seized, but it looked to be an older model of shock glove, without the chi-blocking enhancement. Lin forced the cable taut, flinging the Equalist out into the lake. He struck the side of a boat, upending it and sending the couple inside overboard. Tenzin looked around for the other man, but he had already receded into the forest opposite the water.

“Are you okay?” he asked, coming up behind Lin, who had the cable go limp again before retracting it.

“Getting tired of being shocked…what the hell is that?”

He followed her gaze to the tower leg, where a small gray device had been stuck to one of the beams. Wires stuck out of it on all sides, and a red light blinked rapidly on one corner.

Tenzin wasn’t aware of the explosion, nor was he aware of the tower beginning to crumple under its own weight. He was only aware of Lin shoving him to the ground and throwing her body over him, tensing and then falling still as the shockwave hit her.

⁂

Though they had managed to go almost a week without killing one another, Mako was still wary whenever they were especially high up, skimming under the clouds so that they could keep an eye out for their destination. He kept clear of Korra, all too aware that she wanted him there even less than he wanted to be there, and Asami stayed slumped in the back of the saddle on the best of days. Sometimes he would look back and catch her staring over Pepper’s side at the water far below. He didn’t know whether it was a physical or emotional result of suddenly gaining airbending, but it concerned him either way. Asami was the only thing that had prevented Korra from destroying the city, and in the air she would have a much smaller selection of targets if Asami decided to jump out of the saddle.

While Korra searched for a single miniscule island on the endless expanse of blue around them, he found other ways to amuse himself. Whoever packed the bag he had been given included a few creature comforts from his home. When he wasn’t conscripted into being a lookout, he had a deck of cards to busy himself with, or his erhu to practice. The others tolerated his playing, and one night he caught Korra swaying to the tune before she noticed and went to sleep.

The rest of the time he was forward of the saddle, on Pepper’s scratchy, uncomfortable fur, sitting with Jinora. She was the only one that would speak to him beyond quick grunts or gruff orders, which was a welcome change. A few times she gave the reins over to him so she could help prepare a meal, and her compliments on his flying touched the brotherly part of him that he had long since tamped down. She was smart for a seventeen year-old, too. Probably a result of the monastic temple life, he figured. There were few subjects she couldn’t carry for at least an hour or so, and more than once Mako found himself learning something new.

She also never missed an opportunity to throw a dirty look at Asami, which Mako couldn’t say he didn’t appreciate.

A little while after they set out on the morning of the sixth day, once they had reached their cruising altitude, Jinora clambered back into the saddle, tying Pepper’s reins loosely to a catch on the saddle’s lip. Korra was looking over the side as she always was, and Asami sat hunched over at the rear, knees drawn up under her chin. Her gaze burned a hole in the middle of the saddle until she looked up and made eye contact with Jinora.

“You’re an Equalist,” she said simply. There was no question in her words, only a careful evenness. Mako cocked an eyebrow, and even Korra turned away from her sentry duty. He had wondered when the issue was going to come up. Asami chewed on her lip for a moment before speaking more than she had all week.

“I was. I was the leader, actually, until they found out I was responsible for all the new airbenders. But I guess you already knew that.”

“My dad said as much when he was trying to convince me not to go with you.”

“Did he tell you that Mako is the boss of the Triple Threat triad?” Asami asked, earning Mako a foul look from both her and Korra. He tugged at his scarf.

“Triads didn’t abduct me. Triads didn’t rip out a part of me and laugh about it. They didn’t leave me for dead in a gutter.”

Jinora tried to keep her composure, but tears threatened to fall as she spoke. Mako had stumbled onto the subject once three days before, and she only became sullen and glassy-eyed until he took the conversation elsewhere. Unlike what he expected, Korra didn’t rush to Asami’s defense, but remained a silent observer.

“I’m sorry,” Asami mumbled. “I wasn’t in charge then. There were triads they should have been focusing on.”

“You’re not sorry.”

“I had nothing to do with it!”

She got out of her hunched position and leaned forward, as if to show her honesty. Mako recognized the gesture, but Jinora seemed unconvinced.

“I know you didn’t. You couldn’t have been involved, not if you had a shred of decency. But you’re not sorry.”

Her eyes went glassy again, and thin lines of tears rolled down her cheeks. Mako felt his heart clench. He wanted to comfort her somehow, his big brother instincts firing on all cylinders, but he held back. If she meant what he thought she meant, then she needed her space, at least from him. Korra shifted closer to her instead, worry lining her face.

“They…they didn’t just take your bending, did they?” she asked, glancing back at Asami. Jinora shook her head, and suddenly the thought of jumping out of the saddle, if only to avoid hearing any more, seemed very appealing to Mako.

“I really wanted to see the pro-bending finals last year,” Jinora said, her voice falling into a dull, rote tone. “My dad thinks pro-bending is dumb, so I told him I was going onto the mainland to meet some friends. I only got to see the first half of the match. I was coming back from the bathroom when something hit me hard on the head, and then I woke up in the back of a van. They had gagged me and tied my hands and feet together behind my back.”

She sounded very far-off. Korra put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it away.

“There wasn’t any big spectacle like they did sometimes. Guess I wasn’t important enough. Someone dragged me out of the van and sat me up, he put his thumb on my forehead, and that was it. It felt like someone knocked the wind out of me. I couldn’t breathe for a minute, and then I had no energy. Most of them left, some of them—” Jinora’s voice cracked— “Some of them stayed.”

Asami was crying as well, and Korra seemed torn between them. If she had to wonder who to comfort, Mako thought, she needed to get her head checked.

“It was like I wasn’t really there,” Jinora said, her voice flat once more. “More like I was watching from the other side of the alley. Watching a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. I think I passed out during, because I don’t remember them leaving. A car horn woke me up at sunrise and I went home. There was…there was a lot of blood on my clothes, so I burned them. I don’t know how long I sat in the shower after that. Most of the day, maybe. The water got cold after a while.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Asami again. “I wanted to kill all of them for so long. I used to wish that they had just killed me. Now I have to see those awful masks every time I close my eyes. I’ve wanted to push you overboard every night.”

Korra bristled.

“But that’s too good for you. All of you. You don’t deserve something quick like that. I can’t get to them, but you’re right here. And you’re going to remember what your friends did every time you look at me or any of the airbenders you created. You brought the Air Nation back somehow, and I’m grateful for that, but I won’t forget and neither will you.”

The tranquil rage in her voice subsided as she began wiping away tears. Asami took a ragged breath and looked at Korra, but she was already at Jinora’s side, and Asami drew her legs up again. Mako felt acutely out of place and unable to contribute in any meaningful way, so he turned back to the water.

_Useless._

She tried to stay quiet as she cried, but every sob that broke through gnawed at him and made Mako focus more intently on the water. He was glad for it, too, because he finally saw something on the infinite stretch of blue beneath them. A small island out in the middle of nowhere, with something tiny jutting out that was too regularly shaped to be natural. A dock.

“Hey, Water Tribe,” Mako said, waving her over. “Down there. Is that what we’re looking for?”

Korra crawled around a still-weeping Jinora and looked at where he indicated. She tensed up and nodded. “That has to be it.”

 _She’s not in any condition to land us_ , Mako thought as he climbed out of the saddle, taking the reins with him. Pepper growled as Mako sat in the crook of his neck. “Okay, how hard can this be…do you know ‘down?’ ‘Descend?’ ‘Land?’ Come on, I don’t speak big-flying-slobber-monster, work with me here!”

Mako’s boots tapped the sides of Pepper’s neck, and they dropped ever so slightly. “Yeah, more of that, Pepper,” he said, pulling on the left rein to circle them back toward the island. He wasn’t sure of the exact pressure to apply with his boot, and rather than risk being thrown off, Mako got them there in a slow corkscrew. More detail became visible as they came closer. A small house, a training yard. There didn’t seem to be much else.

_This was her whole life?_

Even living on the streets, he and Bolin had more freedom and access to more space than that. He turned back toward the saddle. Jinora was watching him at the reins, giving him an approving smile marred by the tear lines on her cheeks, and Korra had broken out in a cold sweat, never taking her eyes off the little island. Mako bumped his boots into Pepper’s neck once more and they came to the level of the dock. With one last adjustment, they landed, making the stone beneath them tremble.

He hopped down alongside Korra and made a quick visual sweep. No motion and no lights inside the house. No boats at the dock. “This is the place?” he asked, sparks flying off his fingertips. Korra grimaced and took a step away from him, turning to protect her scarred arm.

“Yeah.”

Jinora and Asami climbed down on opposite sides of Pepper and followed behind as they made their slow advance on the house. Combative as they had been, Mako couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of pride at working with the Avatar, even if she had a bad habit of attacking him.

Korra slammed one boot into the ground and a corner of the house crumbled away, revealing a darkened interior. They evened out until they were walking four abreast, with Jinora and Asami on the outsides and Mako and Korra between them. A vanishingly faint pressure pushed at Mako’s boot, and he saw the shimmer of the tripwire an instant too late. There was a faint _snap_ , followed by the sound of something being primed.

“Down!”

Mako threw himself sideways, tackling Jinora into the water, while a blast ripped through the small home. The cold rushed around him. It clung to his jacket and rushed into his nose and mouth, saltiness stinging at his eyes before he forced them shut. With a twist, he righted himself and resurfaced, taking in the smell of ash and fire as soon as he did. Jinora gasped for air, struggling in his grasp, and he waded them back to the edge of the pier, wiping the water out of his eyes after helping her climb up.

Very little of the house apart from the foundation remained, Mako saw when he hoisted himself back onto the dock. Smoke billowed out from the center, and pieces of wall and terracotta roof tiles were strewn all around them. Korra had ripped up a large section of the pier in front of her and Asami, and gritted her teeth as she sheared it off and dropped it into the water.

“Are you all right?” Mako asked.

Jinora coughed, but nodded after a moment. “I’m okay. Thanks for…you know, tackling me.”

“I hate explosions,” Korra muttered, bending the water off Mako and Jinora. Asami brushed some dust off her jacket, air rushing out as she flicked her wrist. She frowned and crossed her arms.

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Mako said. He picked at the healing cut above his eyebrow. Korra continued toward the house. “What’re we looking for, anyway?”

“Anything that’s left.”

He shrugged and followed her into the wreckage.

Picking through the remains of the Avatar’s home was slow work. Noon came and went, and they only stopped two at a time for a quick midday meal. Rather than spend the little time Korra allowed cooking, Mako shared some of Jinora’s vegetarian fare, and it was more filling than he had expected. She stayed latched to his side the whole time, still trembling until Mako hugged her. Some hours later, when the sun had moved lower and lower in the sky, Korra yelled in frustration and kicked through one of the remaining fragments of wall.

“Damn it, there’s nothing left!”

She didn’t seem to realize Mako had been the one to hit the tripwire, and he decided not to share that bit of information.

Asami looked up from her quarter of the search area, holding a mess of curved metal. “Hey, Korra, what about these?”

It was more than anyone else had found, and they all crowded around a cleared section of ground where Asami laid them. At first glance they looked like warped pieces of sheet metal, but upon closer inspection they were all the same size, curled in spirals, and each bore a raised circle within an octagon, the heraldry of the Jīnshǔ province of the Earth Kingdom.

“These are my metalbending scrolls,” Korra said, unrolling them. Laid flat, they revealed expertly etched diagrams and explanations, showing the different chi paths that metalbending used as opposed to traditional earthbending. Mako inspected them, looking at the small flourishes around the edges and the calligraphy in the etchings.

“High-quality, too,” he said. “It’s authentic stuff, not even reproductions.”

“How do you know?” Korra asked.

“See how the pattern on the top and bottom doesn’t warp when it’s rolled up? The fakes don’t graduate the filigree like that, when they even bother to include it. And the characters in the text aren’t used so much anymore, but they were back when metalbending was invented. The syntax is antiquated, and so are the little serifs at the end of the lines.”

“You’re not even an earthbender,” Korra said. “How do you know what makes these real or fake?”

“Because we sold most of the fakes. You wouldn’t believe how many cops wanted authentic stuff to show their families were involved in the establishment of metalbending. We made a hundred a day at a warehouse in the Jiǎmào district. They were just display pieces, it wasn’t important to get all the details on the inside right.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t look down your nose at me, this is what you dragged me along for. Where did these come from?”

Korra rolled the scrolls up and floated them into her arms. “Zaofu. They knew someone there.”

“The Metal Clan? Well, they left behind some really nice stuff.”

“Don’t worry.” She started back toward Pepper. Without breaking her stride, Korra flicked her wrist, making two deep holes in the ground. Two graves. “I’ll be bringing it back.”


	16. The Southern Lights

Asami expected to be cold, but to her surprise, the dropping temperatures failed to bother her as they made their final approach to the Southern Water Tribe. Mako and Jinora had both bundled up days before, and even Korra took an extra blanket at night that ended up draped over both of them when Korra nestled in beside her.

But Asami wasn’t cold. It _was_ cold, certainly, but she didn’t feel cold. It was the airbending, she knew. The breath control was helping to keep her warm. Puberty had already been unpleasant enough without her mother, and she was in no hurry to have her body go through such radical changes again. At least it was mostly voluntary. There was a burst here and a rush there, but she could stop it by concentrating. It always earned her a nasty look from Jinora when she forgot to tamp it down, but Asami already felt sick with herself whenever they made eye contact anyway.

She had never given a great deal of thought to the people who lost their bending to them. They were never encouraged to think of benders in such sympathetic, human terms, and that hadn’t changed when she assumed control of the Equalists. It likely wouldn’t change when they found someone else to rally behind. She knew that her airbending was common knowledge when they left Republic City, and considering the fate of the last bender they discovered in their ranks, she thought herself lucky to have left at all.

Pepper hit an air pocket, bouncing her around in the saddle. Mako grumbled and rested beside their dwindling supplies, while Korra and Jinora up front had to hold tight to the reins to steady themselves. Asami grabbed at the edge of the saddle before drawing her hands back and taking off one glove. Her skin was slightly reddened from the cold, but she ignored it and flicked her wrist. A tiny bit of air swirled above her palm, and light tingling traced along her forearm to her hand.

_Traitor._

She put her glove back on as Jinora began to guide Pepper down. Asami half-crouched, half-crawled to the front of the saddle, where she could see the Southern Water Tribe sprawling beneath them. It didn’t have quite the skyline of Republic City, with most of the buildings being low and thick-walled for the sake of preserving heat, but reflected light glittered brilliantly off the snow and ice. With the winter solstice approaching in the southern hemisphere, only an hour or so of sunlight remained, despite it being before noon. She didn’t understand how anyone could live in such extreme conditions, at least permanently. It was a fine environment for a research station, but not a home.

They landed with a great _thud_ , scattering the White Lotus members that had arrived to meet them. Pepper skidded on the iced-over pier, but managed to stop before hitting a snow bank. Mako groaned as his head knocked against the side of the saddle, and Asami smirked at that. She had to have a little fun, after all. There was no other way to stay sane.

Asami hopped down into Korra’s arms, squeezing back slightly as Korra pulled her into a hug. She had spent the last three weeks sneaking whatever bits of affection she could, surreptitious kisses and curling up together at night, but Asami hadn’t enjoyed it much.

“Where are you going first?” Asami asked. “Your house?”

Korra looked out at the city proper while the White Lotus members stabled Pepper. “I want to give more details to the security service first.”

“Okay. Future Industries has a research lab nearby, I wanted to check in and see how things are going. I’ve got the address, I’ll catch up with you.”

Her expression dropped. “All right.”

“Not more spirit vines,” Mako said, teeth chattering.

Asami rolled her eyes and went in the opposite direction as Korra, Mako and Jinora started for the central district. She had only been to the Southern Water Tribe once before, to oversee the Varrick Industries buyout, and it had a certain stark beauty that she could appreciate. Windows and streetlights gleamed as she skirted the city limits, light dancing off the ice and snow that built up everywhere. The rather antiquated architectural style was also a sea change from Republic City, with hard, solid lines instead of rooftop flourishes and curving designs.

The Matsu research outpost was another low, squat building set at the edge of the city, covered in all manner of antennae and sensors on the roof and outer walls. A woman was in front of the main entrance, bending away all the accumulated snow and icicles in the few hours of daylight they had.

“Good morning,” Asami said as she approached. “Or evening. I’m not completely sure.”

“Employees only, ma’am.”

“I own the company, does that count?” she asked dryly.

She turned around with a rapidly reddening face, looked at Asami, and then became extremely interested in the ground. “I, um…sorry, Miss Sato. Please come in, I’ll get the station chief.”

Asami sighed and steeled herself as she followed the woman inside. They entered an airlock that warmed up before the interior door opened, and beyond that was a large, open area filled with desks and worktables. Her escort ducked into a small office in the corner, and Asami took the last few moments of peace to finish bracing herself.

“Asami!”

A man with perfectly coiffed hair and a thin bit of mustache bounded out of the office, bumping into her side and throwing an arm over her shoulder. Asami stepped out of his sidelong hug and realized that no amount of mental preparation would ever really be enough.

“I’m glad parole agrees with you, Varrick.”

“Well, my office is smaller than my cell was, but I get to leave at the end of the day,” he said. Every word out of him mouth sounded like an inspired speech bordering on shouting, but Asami had to admit that it was infectious in its own way. “Plus I finally have time to work on all the ideas that came to me in the slammer!”

“Once you’ve finished the projects you’re assigned, of course.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! Just last week we had a successful test of the miniaturized circuits you sent down!”

After weeks without any business talk whatsoever, it was nice to lose herself in Varrick’s excited babble, tripping over his words as he rushed to explain what they were doing. He dragged her from worktable to worktable, showing off the results the staff had collected, all while interjecting his own hare-brained ideas that sounded almost reasonable with his own special brand of salesmanship.

“Seems like things are coming along well,” Asami said, setting down a sample of strike-resistant fabric they were developing. Varrick gave her a conspiratorial glance and hurried her back to his office. “What are you doing?”

“Telling you where the real money is, of course!”

“The _real money_ is in government and corporate contracts. Not in longshot ideas that only prove a concept. Isn’t that why your company folded, you went to jail for embezzlement, and I bought you out?”

Varrick dismissed her question with a wave of his hand. “I’m not talking about proof-of-concept stuff, Asami!”

“Whatever it is, back up. Your cologne is suffocating me.”

“I’m talking about bending!”

Her stomach twisted up. “What about it?”

“Look, whatever you did ended up giving a bunch of people airbending, right? You’re an airbender now! So we do that again, but charge admission! Tweak the setup for different kinds of bending! Think of the money,” he said, practically shaking with excitement.

“I was almost killed when those vines exploded! And I didn’t do anything to give anyone any kind of bending, it happened hours later! I don’t even want to be an airbender,” Asami said, looking at her gloved hands. _Traitor._ “I just want to be me.”

“Oh, come on! You might be looking at the cloud in the silver lining, but do you know how many people would kill to wake up and suddenly be able to control an element with their mind?”

He made several exaggerated motions to drive his point home. Asami rolled her eyes.

“You’re not even doing it properly,” she said.

“Not the point! Think about it, okay? We could make a killing!”

“There is no _we_ here, Varrick. You work for me, remember?”

“Your name is on my checks, how could I forget? I wanted to give you the idea so Future Industries makes money and I keep getting those checks!”

She nodded curtly and went to the door. “Thank you for keeping the company’s interests at heart. I’d like a report on all the projects here sent to the regional office within the week. They’ll know how to get it to me.”

With a quick glance around the main work area, Asami left, and the cold air hit her as she stepped back onto the street. At a crosswalk, while she waited for the light to change so she could find her way to Korra’s home, she looked again at her hands, slipping off her gloves.

_You’re an airbender now!_

She was an airbender, and that was what people would see. It was a part of her, as much as the scar on her side. A tear froze on her cheek.

⁂

Mako shivered. Even with his coat, he was woefully unprepared for the climate. It had been so warm only a few weeks prior in Republic City, and the change was all too jarring. Every breath was ice in his mouth, and trudging through the snow on the ground was costing him the feeling in his toes. Korra had even slipped a sleeve over her right arm, which she usually left exposed to let the scar tissue there heal. She never said anything to him about it, but sometimes he would catch her looking forlornly at the lines in her skin before glaring at him. As far as he was concerned, the less said about it, the better.

Apart from being slightly larger than its neighbors, the chief’s house was difficult to distinguish from the others. The number and surname on the front were the only indications that they were in the right place.

“I used to play here,” Korra said, crouching down and picking up a handful of snow. Mako wasn’t sure who she was speaking to. “I could make the snow into all kinds of shapes and then melt it with fire.”

She brought her hand up with a twirl of her wrist, making the snow spiral up into a thin spike. It moved along with the motions of her fingers, splitting at the tip and coalescing again, twisting and turning before she let it collapse into a loose pile. Mako saw her smiling, really smiling, like she was a kid again playing in her yard. It was oddly humanizing, making her look like a regular person where he usually only saw a font of badly-contained anger on a hair trigger. At least, she was that way with him. With Jinora she was considerably softer, and Asami had her wrapped around her finger on the rare occasions when she came out of her torpor.

“I think a toe broke off in my boot,” Mako said. He looked around. “I guess it’d be redundant to call you ‘Water Tribe’ here, wouldn’t it?”

“You might actually have to use my name, how terrifying.”

“Seriously, probably losing digits. You came all this way just to stop and play in the snow? I’d kill for a set of parents to run home to, Korra.”

His use of her name seemed to have its intended effect. She stood up, took a deep breath, and went to the door. Mako and Jinora followed, standing a respectable distance from her while they huddled for warmth. She rapped on the door, hissing sharply as she drew her scarred fingers away.

The door opened after a moment, revealing a middle-aged woman, slightly shorter than Korra, but otherwise bearing a striking resemblance. Shock spread on her face, and Korra began to tremble.

“Mom,” she choked out, tears glistening on her cheeks.

“Korra…?”

She nearly fell into her mother’s arms, sobs breaking through her labored breathing. Her mother tried speaking, but she too fell into incoherence, squeezing her daughter so tightly that they both fought for breath. Mako heard a heavier set of footfalls from inside the house, and Korra looked up long enough to see who they belonged to.

“Dad!”

Her father grabbed them both in a crushing hug, and the world around them seemed of little importance. Mako couldn’t help but crack a smile, only to feel his heart twist up at the memory of his own parents.

“Does this feel kind of…intrusive?” he asked, turning to Jinora.

“A little. They should really have this moment to themselves. My grandmother and aunt live right down the street, we can go there.”

Mako was going to tell her where they were headed, but Korra and her parents were in their own world. He shrugged and followed Jinora back to the street, where a gust picked up, cold air biting into every inch of exposed skin. While his coat provided some small protection, Jinora’s jacket looked much thinner, and she stayed hunched over as they walked. Her breath puffed out in small gasps every few seconds. Mako snapped his fingers to call up a flame in his palm, and he held it out at waist-level between them.

“That’s your own chi, it’s not going to make you any warmer,” Jinora said.

“It’s not for me.”

The shiver running along his chi path was small and unimportant as she took a step closer to him, looking up with her big brown eyes. Jinora wrapped her arms around his elbow so she could move the flame easily, and Mako couldn’t say that he minded much.

“You’re really a triad boss?” she asked, kicking lightly at a snow drift as they passed it.

“What, your dad didn’t mention that?”

Jinora shrugged. “He did, but sometimes he exaggerates. Once he told me that the bison ate kids who didn’t behave.”

Mako was unsure of how much of an exaggeration that really was, but he said no more about it. “Well, he didn’t exaggerate here. I ran the Triple Threat triad.”

“Why?”

He furrowed his brow. No one had ever bothered asking him that. Not even Lin.

“Why? I mean, there’s no simple answer to that. It’s complicated, and not a super-happy story.”

“Grandma lives pretty far down the street,” Jinora said, squeezing his arm. “Besides, I already told a not-super-happy story, it’s your turn.”

She had him there, Mako thought. “Fair enough. My brother Bolin and I are orphans, our parents died when I was eight. We almost got adopted, sort of…not important. There isn’t much else to do on the streets for a kid but panhandle or run numbers, and the triads controlled both of those.”

“There are places, orphanages,” Jinora began.

“A lot of those weren’t much better than being on the street. We wound up in those places sometimes, usually winter. Really horrible. At least out in the city we could get more than a tiny plate of food most days. I’m the older brother, I tried to keep Bolin out of all the gang stuff. Some days I’d plant him in the park while I went and ran the numbers. It made us enough to eat, so I didn’t really care if it was mixed up in triad stuff.”

Mako guided them around a patch of ice in the sidewalk, as all of Jinora’s attention was on him. He was making every effort to not see her as cute, but he wasn’t doing well. “One day, I guess I was twelve or thirteen, the guy who gave me the numbers asked me if I wanted to make some more money. It hadn’t been a very good week, so I said sure.

“We ended up stealing a bunch of jewelry from another triad, and when they gave me my cut, I had never seen so much money in my life, Jinora. I was able to get us both new coats, buy some real food, and get some stuff to make the alley we stayed in more comfortable. After that, when you suddenly have this amazing upgrade and all you need for it is a little crime…morals get kind of relative. I didn’t want to go back to clawing around just to survive.”

He let out a deep breath, watching the vapor swirl and fade as it crossed his lips. Jinora kept pace with him, matching his stride step for step. “Then what?”

“After a while I started moving up through the ranks, eventually got us a small apartment. The boss at the time said I had a real talent for bending, and he taught me how to generate lightning. He died a few years later, and I helped run things after that until my partners tried to kill me. I got them instead, and once I was the only boss, we started absorbing the other triads.”

“Your friends tried to kill you?” Jinora asked, her voice wavering. Mako nodded.

“It’s not the kind of life that encourages a lot of friendships. I see stuff when I try to sleep, too. But not masks. Their faces. All the faces.”

“I never heard any of this about Councilor Bolin.”

“Of course not,” Mako said, smiling despite himself. “The good Councilor can’t be associated with such a seedy criminal element. Until he needs something, that is. Then he’ll work with anyone. Triads, Equalists, doesn’t matter. Whatever it takes to win those re-elections.”

At the mention of Equalists, Jinora clutched his arm so tightly that he thought she might cut off the circulation. As it was, drawing out enough chi to keep her warm was letting the chill creep in through his coat, but he kept the fire going. Mako reached over with his free hand and patted her on the head. It felt silly, she wasn’t a child and not all that much shorter than him, but she seemed to appreciate it all the same.

“We’re here!”

“All these houses look the same, how can you tell?”

Jinora pointed to the sign with the house number and her surname on it. “I’ve been here before, you know.”

“Salient point.” She unlinked her arms from around his and ran up to the door while Mako followed, dissipating the fire in his hand. “You know, I’ve always wondered something about Air Nomads.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, you have temples. Big, permanent temples,” Mako said while Jinora knocked on the door. “I thought part of being a nomad wasn’t having a permanent home, but they lived there, right?”

“There’s actually a really interesting reason for that—”

An older woman with graying hair answered her knocking, breaking out into a smile when she saw her there.

“Aunt Kya!”

“Hey kiddo,” she said, pulling Jinora into a hug. Any hope Mako had of getting his question answered dropped off as Jinora put her arms around her aunt. The woman turned to Mako and playfully cocked an eyebrow. “Who’s your boyfriend?”

⁂

_AVATAR KORRA_

The headstone was nice, in a morbid sort of way. She sat down in front of it, clearing away the snow as she did, and laid a bundle of frost lilies, the only flower that would grow in the extreme cold, at the base. All manner of emotions washed over her, and Korra let them all pass through in equal measure. No one had prepared her to look at her own grave, after all. She wasn’t even sure that there was a way to prepare for it.

“I wish I knew who you were,” she began, wringing her hands. “You were someone’s daughter, and your only crime was looking too much like me. I wish I could at least tell your family what happened.”

Snow crunching underfoot drew her attention. Asami stood behind her in the otherwise empty cemetery, holding up the hem of her dress to keep it clean. “They’re waiting for you at the banquet hall,” she said.

“Right. I wanted to come here first and…I don’t know, see it, I guess.”

“Must be strange.”

Korra nodded and stood up, taking Asami’s free hand as they headed back into town. She tried lacing their fingers together, but Asami didn’t notice, only looking solemnly at the road ahead of them. “Your dress is really beautiful.”

“Hmm? Oh, thanks. I’m glad I had a week to find something in red, blue isn’t my color.”

“Is something wrong?” Korra asked, bending the snow out of their way.

“You don’t know how to do that taking-away-bending thing, do you? The real thing, not the bloodbending.”

“Energybending? No, I don’t. Only the last Avatar knew how to do that. I’ve tried talking to some of them, but it’s been nothing but one-sided conversations so far. They’re not very happy with me.”

Asami’s shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

“Do you really hate it that much? I mean, it’s not like you… _have_ to airbend or anything.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” she said, turning onto the main street. “You’d feel pretty messed up too if you suddenly didn’t have any bending.”

The thought pricked at fears deep inside of her, but it was clear that Asami was hurting. Korra wished she had some way to help her. Even after sharing a bed for a week, Asami had yet to open up, and Korra found herself pressed into Asami’s back on the nights when she didn’t simply depart for the couch. She didn’t want to push Asami, but her languor was troubling. Korra cared for her, after all, and didn’t want Asami to withdraw any more.

“It’ll be okay,” she finally said, pulling Asami into a hug. Korra’s fingers traced through the soft waves of her hair, and she kissed Asami lightly on the lips, taking care not to disturb her makeup. “We’ll figure this out.”

Her only response was an ineffectual nod before continuing down the road.

The tribe’s banquet hall was awash in glittering crystal, no matter how much Korra expressed her unease with such luxury to her father. Tables covered the entire floor, stretching from the entrance to the far walls, each adorned with frost lilies and more silverware than Korra had ever seen in her life. When they arrived, the band was warming up, and a few people were already milling about. Mako and Jinora were sitting with her family at the head table, and Asami sat next to Mako while Korra took the seat beside her mother.

“I’m so glad you’re back, sweetie,” Senna said, wrapping her arms around Korra. She hadn’t gone more than a few moments without hugging her daughter all week, but Korra didn’t mind at all.

“Me too, Mom. This is all so…”

“Lovely?”

“I was going to say ‘extravagant,’ but sure.” The scent of Senna’s shampoo threw Korra into a cascade of locked-away memories, things she hadn’t allowed herself to remember for years and years. Dinners and walks and bedtime stories, all rushing back at once. She held her mother tight. “It’s lovely.”

Tolerable as he had been for the past week, Korra felt a twinge of guilt at leaving Asami next to Mako as she went around the hall with Tonraq. She had all manner of people to meet, dignitaries and elders and anyone else her father thought they should speak to. It made sense, he was hosting the event and she was the guest of honor, but it was cold comfort to her growling stomach.

By the time they returned to their table, everyone was well into their first course. Korra sat down and grabbed her fork, ready to tuck in, but Senna nudged her shoulder. “Mom, please, I haven’t eaten all day, I’m so hungry.”

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Asami’s fine, Mom.”

“No, Jinora,” she said, nodding her head toward the younger girl, who was poking at her muktuk with her fork, having eaten the rest of the course. “They’re vegetarians, right? Air Nomads?”

Korra reluctantly put her fork down and went over. “Sorry, I forgot to tell the cooks we needed something vegetarian.”

“This is whale, right?” Jinora asked, slicing off a small piece.

“Yeah. I’ll have them get you something else.”

“No.” She speared the piece on her fork and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly. Her aunt and grandmother watched, surprised, but she didn’t look at them. “It’s fine.”

Korra gave her a pat on the shoulder and went back to her seat, starting her meal before her mother could say anything else. She worked through each course in turn, letting the tastes and scents dig up more memories, deep hazy images from her earliest childhood. It wasn’t Senna that broke her out of her reverie next, but Tonraq.

“Did someone else important walk in, Dad?”

“No,” he said, kneeling down behind her. “But it is time for your speech, remember?”

“How could I forget…”

With a slow, deep breath, Korra stood and went to the podium while the room fell silent. Her ears burned with so many eyes on her, like they had when she was hauled up in front of the Council to explain everything a month before. Korra stood at the podium, looking down at about a dozen microphones with wires snaking over to a booth with a technician inside. She tapped her fingers on the sides before turning to all the assembled people and cracking an awkward smile.

“I, uh…thank you all for coming here tonight,” she began, cheeks flushing. She bounced slowly back and forth on her heels while a bead of sweat trickled down her neck from being under all the lights. “My name is Korra, I’m Chief Tonraq and Senna’s daughter. The Avatar.”

The word still felt bitter on her tongue. She twisted under the lights, parts of her skin burning while others had goosebumps from the cold room. “I wanted to explain where I’ve been for the last twenty years. Why I’m not in that grave with my name on it. After it got out that I was the Avatar, I was kidnapped by an anarchist group called the Red Lotus. They were the ones who left that body in my place, and the people responsible for the murder of Chief Unalaq a month ago.”

Murmurs and grumbles spread through the crowd. Korra bit the inside of her cheek and continued. “I was told that I had caused a fire and killed my parents, and they raised and trained me in a remote part of the Fire Nation. Most of my training was for the targeted assassinations of world leaders. I’m ashamed to say that I came to think of them as my family.”

She was gripping the side of the podium so hard that the edges dug into her hand. _Breathe._ Korra looked over at her seat, where they were all watching her, concerned. “About two and a half months ago, they sent me to Republic City to dismantle the government there, starting with the assassinations of the Council members. They told me it would be…poetically appropriate.”

Katara, Kya, and Jinora all seemed especially disturbed the next time she looked over at them. She had neglected to mention her original plan for the Council to any of them.

“I didn’t do any of that. While I was there alone, I started having doubts about what they had ingrained in me, and they fled after I confronted them. Now my—”

She paused as she turned her gaze on Asami, Mako, and Jinora. _My friends? My associates? My Equalist sort-of lover, her triad boss ex, and my past life’s granddaughter?_

“Now we’re looking for them so that they don’t have the chance to do anything like they already did in the Northern Water Tribe. I’m not going to be their weapon and I’m not going to let them throw anything else into chaos.”

Korra paused for a smattering of polite applause, covered the microphones with her hands, and turned to the technician. “Where is this broadcasting?”

“Um, everywhere,” he said, clearly uneasy at being addressed.

“Good.” She leaned in closer, still holding onto the podium with enough force to leave marks in her skin. “Then I know you’re listening to this, Zaheer. I’m going to find you. All of you. I don’t care if I have to dry up the oceans, rip mountains down, burn the world and sift through the ashes…I will find you. And I _will_ kill you.”

The room had taken on a much tenser atmosphere, and Korra felt her hackles rise. She left the podium without another word, and saw the others following her for a few seconds before ducking out of the building through the kitchen.

Her boots crashed into snow as soon as she was outside, shining under the light of the full moon. Even disregarding the cold, she struggled to keep her breathing even, and instead it escaped in quick, ragged bursts. Korra glanced back when she heard the door open again, and her parents followed her out, along with Asami, Mako, Jinora, and her family. A few of Tonraq’s guards accompanied him, watching the street they found themselves on.

“Honey?”

“I just need a minute, Mom.” _Inhale. Exhale._ “Public speaking isn’t my thing.”

“Were you really going to kill my dad?” Jinora asked. Korra had wondered when she was going to get her dressing down over that. She went over to Jinora, still clinging to her aunt’s side, and searched for the right words.

“I don’t have a good answer to that, except that I didn’t, and I know that’s not saying much and I’m really sorry that I lied to all of you, especially your dad since he was nice to me and I really, really don’t want to be a murderer,” she said, speeding through the words. Korra took a moment to catch her breath, but her tension spiked up again as she looked around them. “Dad, where’d your security go?”

It took the rest of them a moment to realize that the guards had disappeared. Mako peered uneasily down the street. “We should get back in—”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before having his arms and legs yanked taut, along with everyone else. Korra’s breath caught in her throat as the uncomfortably familiar feeling of strings pulling at her body overtook her, ripping away any shred of agency. Jinora was screaming, but she couldn’t focus on that. Korra tried wrenching herself free, but everything was locked up, down to the last joints of her fingers. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father’s guards in a pile beside the banquet hall, blood seeping out from under them and into the snow.

She was turned around, spinning on the toes of her boots, and in front of her was a small, almost waifish hooded figure. Thin tendrils of water flowed out from her sleeves, and one of them waved over their group, bending the blood away from their brains just long enough to make Jinora, Kya, Katara and Senna faint. The other tendril pushed her hood back, exposing a thin, sunken face sporting a rictus smile.

“Looks like you found me,” Ming-Hua said.

“Ah—let me go!”

Her muscles were beginning to cramp, the vessels around them filled with slowly stagnating blood. Korra felt herself being pulled upward, and every inch of her skin screamed in protest as she hung helplessly above the ground.

“I didn’t want to believe it when they got me on the radio,” she said, padding over to Tonraq. “That you betrayed us. You should’ve told me your dad was cuter than your uncle, I would’ve come here first.”

They strained against her hold, but it only made her clamp down tighter. Korra struggled to draw breath through the sickening feeling of deep, fundamental violation. “Oh, stop. You can’t break it, you never could. Because you never _prac-ticed_ ,” Ming-Hua sang as she went back to Korra. She bumped their noses together, like she would do when Korra was younger after each training session.

“You’re insane,” she gasped out. Ming-Hua rolled her eyes.

“That’s what your uncle said when he had me locked up, you know. All because I beat a friend of his at a waterbending competition when I was eight. Said there was no way some deformed little brat was that good and that I must have cheated. I was _eight_! And he had me thrown in a sanitarium for ten years! Oh well. Maybe I did cheat. He sure couldn’t bend very well without his arms.”

Korra’s head spun. She wasn’t getting enough blood to her brain. Where her heart had been pounding and racing only a few minutes ago, now she only felt a weak _thump._ A new kind of coldness began creeping into her fingers and toes, followed swiftly by numbness. With great effort, she managed to look at her father, who had also been suspended above the ground. Mako and Asami were behind her and out of sight, but she was sure they weren’t faring any better.

“I had faith in you, Korra. P’Li and Ghazan didn’t think you could do it, but me and Zaheer? We believed in you.” She froze the end of one tendril, drawing the spike slowly down her cheek, sharp enough to draw out a tiny bubbling bead of blood. Ming-Hua kissed it away, lapping it off her lips with her tongue. “Do you know how much grief I’m going to get over supporting you?”

An incredulous look was all Korra could manage.

“I really did think of you as my daughter,” she said, sadness spreading on her voice. Her twisted smile faded, and Korra felt the vise grip on her body weaken the slightest bit. “The daughter I couldn’t have. Forget the arms, my body’s an even bigger mess on the inside. And you betrayed us. That hurts.”

Ming-Hua went back to Tonraq and drew her sharpened tendril over his throat, leaving a thin bright line of red streaming down onto his shirt. Watching her father’s blood trickle out made something snap deep inside of her. Korra cried out, focusing her chi enough to shoot fire from her mouth, and lit up the darkened street. Ming-Hua gasped and staggered back as parts of her hair and tunic burned away. They all fell to the ground, fighting for breath, but Korra launched herself back up with another burst of flame.

“Yeah? How’d that feel?”

Terrible cramps wracked her whole body, but the pain faded as her eyes and scars began to shine white with rage. Heat flared in her arm, so sharp and so hot she felt as if the bones would splinter. Ming-Hua rushed away, turning the snow under her boots to ice and sliding onto another street. Korra wanted to follow her, find her, kill her, but she rushed to her father’s side. He gasped wordlessly at her, clutching her sleeve. With a guilty glance back at Asami, Korra bent the blood back into the veins as best she could and melted a handful of snow to run over the slash. The water glowed as she moved her hand back and forth, eventually leaving only a thin white line.

“Wake—wake up my mom, she can help more,” Korra said to no one in particular. Asami dropped beside her and cradled Tonraq while Korra stood and took off after Ming-Hua.

Her trail was easy enough to find, a long sheet of ice extending across the next street and disappearing into an alley four blocks down. Korra bounded after her, the snow under her feet melting away an instant before her boots hit the ground. Whenever she turned onto a straightaway, she pulled in the air around her feet, letting her leap to the next sharp turn through the twisting maze of roads that made up the city.

The scars on her arm and the edges of her vision glowed white intermittently, but she tried her hardest to tamp it down. She didn’t want to lose control again. She didn’t want her parents to see her like that.

At the city limits, Korra cut loose, letting flames burst from her hands and feet to propel her as she leapt. The line of ice tapered off beneath her, replaced by small footprints leading toward an ice field near the hydroelectric plant on the coast. Korra could barely make out a small figure in blue through the brewing snowstorm, and shot forward in its direction. She came down hard on Ming-Hua, who managed to twist in Korra’s grasp so that she fell on her back. Korra straddled her and wrapped her hands around Ming-Hua’s slender throat. Her nails dug into the skin there, feeling the veins weakly pulsing beneath her grasp.

“You bitch,” Korra said through a snarl, feeling tears pricking in her eyes. Ming-Hua writhed under her, but Korra kept her pinned as her thumbs crushed Ming-Hua’s windpipe. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you…”

A tendril of water snaked up beside her face. There was no sharp, frozen point at the end, only a soft curve, stroking her cheek where she had drawn blood only minutes before. Ming-Hua gave one last ragged, gasping breath, and fell still.

Korra was silent for a moment, her hands still wrapped tight around the warm skin. Tears dripped down her cheek and onto Ming-Hua’s tunic, leaving small dark splotches. Her head spun like a top, and a tightness settled in her chest, threatening to crush her.

She was screaming. She was crying. She couldn’t tell the difference. Korra held on to Ming-Hua’s throat as tightly as she could and bashed her head against the ice, over and over and over. Her eyes shut tight while shocks carried up through her hands and arms. Every day she could remember spending with Ming-Hua flashed in front of her, despite every attempt to block them out. Teaching, playing, sleeping…all the memories quickly sprung up, and she had to force her eyes open to get away from them.

There was a low, gurgling _squelch_ , and the resistance to the ice disappeared. Red and bits of pink slowly spread out around Ming-Hua’s head. Korra’s grip loosened, fingers dripping into the red before she drew them back up in front of her. Her gaze slipped between her stained hands and Ming-Hua, her sleek hair matted down by the blood. Cold, lifeless eyes stared back at her.

_The Avatar shouldn’t be a murderer._

_All you are is a failure._

_Do you feel like a hero yet, Avatar?_

Korra fell off of her and retched, still crying as her dinner came back up. Hot, stinging bile pooled under her shaking form, mingling with the falling tears. The cramps in her muscles she had been able to ignore earlier came back in full force, an insidious aftereffect of powerful bloodbending. She fell on her side, trembling and crying and trying to hold back any more vomit, when she heard a set of footsteps over the wind.

“Hey, Water Tribe?”

_Mako. Of all the people to see me like this…_

She tried to sit up, if only to look that much less pathetic, but her arms refused to support her weight. Instead she fell back down, striking her shoulder on the ice. Korra cried out in pain, her throat raw. Mako knelt down beside her before he looked at Ming-Hua.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He wiped her mouth clean with his sleeve and rubbed away the tear lines running down her face. When he was done, he straightened out her hair, easing away a few clinging flecks of ice. Her expression twisted up into one of confusion. “Why are you…?”

“You shouldn’t have to face your parents like that,” he said with a trace of sadness. Bolin had mentioned offhand that they were orphans, but Mako never brought it up. Korra nodded slowly as he put an arm around her. “Okay, on your feet. One, two, three.”

Mako hoisted her up, and they both spared a final glance at Ming-Hua. Korra felt another bout of nausea coming on until she looked away. “What do we do about her?” he asked.

“Leave it. The polar bear dogs will get her.” Her mind clicked back into place when she saw the glittering lights from the city. “My dad, how’s my dad?”

“Take it easy, he’s okay. Your mom and I carried him back to one of the healing centers. Tough old man, he kept insisting he was fine and tried to walk the rest of the way.”

“Everyone else? Asami? Jinora?”

“Jinora’s pretty shaken up, but they’re all fine. I’m okay too, by the way,” he added dryly.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I can’t imagine what your childhood was like if you think basic human decency is being especially nice, but if you want a reason, I’m trying to make you think twice about throwing me off Pepper somewhere over the ocean.”

Korra made a small sound of acknowledgement, walking along with her arm slung over Mako’s shoulder. She didn’t trust herself to open her mouth yet. Another tremor shot through her, and she whimpered.

“That was your first, huh?”

She nodded. Mako was pleasantly warm, and Korra allowed herself to press up against his side. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Yeah, that’s how I was after mine. Get drunk and get laid, that gets rid of the shakes. Listen, I don’t want to kick you while you’re down, but it doesn’t get any easier. You just get numb to it after a while. When—when the killing gets easy, you know you have a problem.”

“Please, Mako, talk about something else,” she murmured. “Anything else.”

“All right…do you like jazz?”

“What’s that?”

“Wow, they really kept you isolated. It’s a kind of music. I own a club in Republic City where they play it. Lots of brass and drums, some songs are pretty frantic. Asami likes it, you ought to take her there sometime. My treat.”

A pit dropped in her stomach at the thought. Asami didn’t ever seem to be in the mood to do much of anything, but Korra hoped that was only temporary.

“I changed my mind. Let’s be quiet for a while.”

They made their way back to the city in silence. Once they were halfway there, Korra felt well enough to walk unassisted. Mako let his arm fall away as she unburdened his shoulder, but she stayed close beside him.


	17. The Voice in the Night

“We have to tell her, it’s not like she won’t find out.”

“I’d feel a lot better about doing that if there were some restraints on this bed.”

Tenzin glared at Bolin, unwilling to admit how much he agreed. Lin laid in the bed between them, heavily bandaged with an intravenous drip in her wrist. She looked so different without her armor, Tenzin thought. Sharp tan lines on her wrists and neck showed the spots where the metal plates usually stopped, and the skin underneath seemed so fragile. He put his hand on hers, but drew it away when she stirred.

“Argh—where am I?” she asked, pushing back on her elbows to try and sit up. “Why does my leg feel like it was flambéed?”

“Take it easy, don’t get up. You’re in the hospital. It’s been about two weeks. Your leg has some burns, but the doctors are taking care of it.”

“Tenzin…?”

She curled toward his voice, tugging on the needle in her wrist in the process. There was a short, pained gasp, and she moved back while looking around. She took in the hospital room with bleary, groggy eyes that finally settled on him.

“Sleep well?” Bolin asked, trying to provoke a smile. It didn’t work.

“What happened? I remember sitting down at Harmony Tower,” she began, screwing up her face in concentration. “You were there.”

After making sure he would be able to back away easily if the need arose, Tenzin told her. “The Equalists bombed the tower while we were there. One of the legs gave out and it went into the lake. It’s gone, Lin.”

“I _liked_ that tower.” She scowled before concern flashed over her face. “Were there people at the top?”

“Seven,” Bolin said. “Five of them died, the other two are still critical—hey!”

They both had to push down on her shoulders to keep Lin from hauling herself out of bed, and even then it was a struggle. “What are you two doing here? What are you going to do about _them_? I told you this would happen!”

Her words stung with a bitter truth as Tenzin stood back. Bolin seemed unconvinced. “You really think they would’ve kept Asami in charge after what happened? She was lucky to get out of here in one piece.”

“So what are you doing about it, Councilor?”

“We’re working on it.”

Lin scoffed. “Typical politician answer.”

“I’ll blame that on the morphine,” Bolin said, chewing the inside of his cheek. Their personalities rubbed roughly on the best of days, Tenzin knew, and it was far from the best of days.

“Councilor? A word, please?”

Tenzin led him out into the hall, where they stepped around a gurney to move away from the door. “They should have kept her sedated longer.”

“She’s drugged up with no filter,” Tenzin said. “But there was a valid point under all that guff. We don’t have any plans for dealing with the Equalists now. Unless you really are working on something, in which case the rest of the Council would very much like to know.”

“Don’t you think you would’ve known about it already if I did? I have the beginnings of an idea. It’s a risky one and bringing more people in on it would only complicate matters. Can’t I get a little trust here as the chairman?”

Several of the dubious things Bolin had to do to _become_ the chairman flitted across Tenzin’s mind, but he thought better of saying anything. Instead he knew he would have to make plans with Izana and the others. “Of course. I suppose we’re all a little on edge these days.”

The doors at the end of the hall burst open, revealing Meelo on a tear through the hospital. “I found him!”

Bolin stepped out of the way as Meelo ran up to his father, only to catch a sidelong hug from Ikki as she came bounding in after her brother. “Meelo, please, it’s a hospital, keep your voice down,” Tenzin said, grabbing him by the shoulder.

Ikki seemed to believe that request didn’t apply to her. “Hi Bolin! What’re you doing out here with Daddy? How come there are so many guards on the street? Where’s Aunt Lin?”

“Full of questions, aren’t you?” Bolin patted her head, difficult since they were nearly the same height. “She’s right in that room there. Careful, she’s a little grumpy.”

“Aunt Lin’s _always_ grumpy,” Ikki said before disappearing into the room. Tenzin could almost hear Lin groan as Meelo ran in after Ikki. Pema drifted into the hall a moment later, toying with the sash over her shoulder.

“Don’t get caught between the moon and Republic City, Councilor,” Bolin said under his breath, looking at Lin’s room and then at Pema. “We’ve got too many problems to deal with already.”

“We certainly do.”

“Good to see you, Pema,” Bolin said, putting his politician persona back on as he pecked her on the cheek. “I have to go, Tenzin. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He slipped out of the side corridor, and Tenzin swept Pema up in his arms. She nestled in against his chest, resting the side of her head in the crook of his shoulder. “How’s everything at home?” Tenzin asked. “Is Rohan here with you? Did you hear from Jinora?”

“No, he’s back on the island, Ming and Tai are watching him. Jinora hasn’t called, either. They must not have gotten to Zaofu yet. Everything’s been quiet today, except for the kids. How is she?”

Tenzin felt her grip on his robes tighten. “Angry, mostly. Full of painkillers. One of her legs was burned inside her armor.”

“Hey, don’t pull on that!”

They both sighed heavily at Lin chastising one of their children. Meelo, if Tenzin had to guess. He stroked Pema’s shoulder as she pulled away. “I’m glad she’s all right. It was…lucky that she was there,” she said, looking down at her feet. “With you.”

“I’m not sure how many other ways I can put it, we both ended up there for lunch. We didn’t plan that. Please don’t cast aspersions on Lin, she’s already been injured. I’m married to _you_ , Pema,” he said, as much to himself as to her. Tenzin pulled her into another hug, which she returned after a moment, squeezing him tight around the waist. “Come on, let’s make sure they haven’t given her a heart attack yet.”

“Or that she hasn’t thrown them through the window…”

⁂

_Korra._

She opened her eyes, but there was only darkness. Rather than the back of the saddle where she had fallen asleep beside Asami, there was only a featureless black void around her. Korra twisted around, looking for something, anything, but it was all emptiness. Except for the voice. The voice that clawed at the back of her mind at night, when she tried to sleep, when she tried to meditate. It had been quiet for weeks.

“Who are you?” she asked, letting the words echo out without her really speaking. “Which Avatar are you?”

_All of them, in a sense. I am the Avatar spirit. I am Raava._

Something clicked inside Korra, and she felt tears stinging up in the corners of her eyes. “You must be so disappointed in me,” she said. A white pinprick of light began to gleam far ahead of her in the void.

_No._

“Why? Why not? I tried to kill innocent people! I murdered someone! I let them twist me into their weapon! I was gone for twenty years when the world needed me!”

 _I am not disappointed in you because the world survived, as it did the last time an Avatar disappeared,_ the voice said. The pinprick grew larger in front of her, taking on a shape as it expanded. It began to look like a brilliant white kite filled with swirling blues. _Because you have begun untwisting yourself rather well. And because I am a part of you, and I love you._

The moving shapes inside the kite coalesced into a distinct pattern, perfectly symmetrical with a shape resembling an eye near the top. Several dangling arms on either side wrapped around her, pulling Korra into a deep embrace. The shape was warm, and Korra felt a deep trust flow between them.

“It was you talking to me all that time?” Korra asked. “Trying to tell me what I was doing was wrong?”

_Also keeping your airbending and the Avatar state blocked. Had you been in control of those six years ago, they could have made you open the spirit portals in time for Harmonic Convergence._

“Harmonic…what?”

_Suffice it to say it would have been disastrous for your world._

Raava floated back until Korra was level with what amounted to her eye. “You could have spoken up a little earlier, you know.”

_I try not to interfere with the lives of those I bond with. You are a…special case. I guide, I do not dictate._

“Well, I could use some guidance right now.” Korra began to sit down before remembering that they were floating in an ether. “I killed someone I thought was my family. I’m on my way to kill more of them. I don’t want to spend my life murdering people.”

_You are the Avatar. Your place is to put the world in balance. If the deaths of a few brings that balance to many, so be it._

“That doesn’t really help me,” Korra said.

_This is why I prefer to let you come to these conclusions on your own._

“Can you teach me energybending, at least? My friends are miserable the way they are, and the other Avatars never talk to me.”

 _I cannot impart that knowledge, I have no body like yours and cannot bend. The connection to your past lives is weak, tamped down over the years. It will mend._ Raava paused, as if she were gazing past Korra. _The sun is rising, it is time for you to go back to your own world._

Raava began flickering out, and light seeped into the void. “Wait! What if I need to talk to you?”

_I will always be with you, Korra._

She opened her eyes, and there was light.

Dawn was breaking over the sea to the east. She blinked rapidly, holding the sides of her head as Ming-Hua’s lifeless body flashed before her eyes like it did every morning. Korra sat up and took a look around the tiny outcropping they had made camp on the night before. Asami had turned and twisted away from her in the night, leaving Korra alone. At the other end of the saddle Jinora had cuddled up against Mako’s side, and he had one arm placed protectively around her. Pepper was splayed out behind them, chewing through their food stores. It took Korra a moment to realize what the crunching sound was.

“No, Pepper! Damn it!”

Korra blew a gust of air at his head, only for Pepper to respond in kind, knocking her clear across the saddle. She crashed into the lip, leaving her to tumble down onto Mako and Jinora. Asami poked her head up while they all tried to untangle themselves, grumbling the whole time.

“What happened?” Asami asked through a yawn.

“The Avatar’s starting a wake-up service,” Mako said, dislodging her boot from his shoulder. “I’d like to cancel my subscription.”

“Oh, can it.” Korra pointed to the remains of their food. “Pepper ate his way through our supplies!”

Mako looked at the broken crate and the scraps strewn around behind the saddle. “Well, fair’s fair. We have to eat Pepper.”

Jinora looked at him, horrified.

“I guess it’s too early for jokes.”

“It wasn’t funny!” Jinora said, punching him in the arm. She wound back to hit him again, but broke into a smile instead and fell against his chest.

“Not to break up this…whatever you two are,” Korra said as she cautiously approached Pepper again, “But we don’t have any more food. I can fish, but I can’t bend the salt out of water. We need to find somewhere to resupply.”

Asami took the map from an untouched box in the saddle and spread it out in front of them. She pointed to a tiny patch of blue near the bottom, east of the Southern Air Temple. “We’re here, somewhere. No one sends surveyors out this far, so the map isn’t very accurate. If we could navigate through the mountain range here, the temple is over there.”

“That takes us out of our way,” Korra said. “We’re going to Zaofu.”

“What about Kyoshi Island?” Jinora asked, pointing to a small dot north of their approximate location. “Some of my family lives there, and it’s in the right direction.”

Korra studied the map for a moment, wondering how low they would have to fly to spot the island. “I hope we can find the place. Let’s get the saddle back on.”

They all climbed out, and Mako and Korra maneuvered the saddle around Pepper and up his back until it fell into the natural grooves of his spine. Mako threw the two support ropes under his stomach to Korra on the other side. “Can’t you, I don’t know, ask Kyoshi where the island is? If anyone could point us in the right direction, it’d be her.”

“My past lives have never been very talkative,” Korra muttered as they all clambered back in. “I’ve been trying, believe me. Right now I’m the best you’ve got.”

⁂

_KYOSHI ISLAND ADMINISTRATIVE REGION_

_JĪNSHǓ PROVINCE_

“See, I told you we’d find it,” Jinora said, pointing at the sign on the dock slowly coming into better view as they approached…without slowing down. “Pepper, stop! Stop!”

Pepper did stop, but not before they had all jumped clear. He bumped into a shipping container, earning some panicked screams from the nearby dockhands. Korra helped Asami up while Jinora ran up to where he had come to rest. “No! Bad bison!”

He snorted and laid down. Mako helped Jinora tease Pepper off the pier, leaving Korra and Asami following at a distance. She felt the same fleeting rush of familiarity as she did the first time she visited Air Temple Island, a small extrusion of her past lives. The dockhands slowly returned to work, shooting occasional glances at Pepper as he lumbered off. “I, um, meant to ask you this earlier,” Korra began as they started toward the city proper, “But I don’t really have much in the way of…money for supplies.”

Asami ducked under the base of a crane. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Great, thanks. Hopefully we can get what we need and get back in the air quickly.”

Korra’s hopes fell somewhat flat when they found Mako and Jinora again. They were picking out splinters from Pepper’s feet while he laid on his side, making deep, sonorous whimpers. “What happened?” she asked, running her hand through her hair. “You were five minutes ahead of us, if that!”

“Someone smelled fresh fruit,” Mako said, carefully extracting something that looked more like a spike than a splinter, “And decided to go trotting through the freshly cut part of the tree line there.”

“Can he fly?”

Jinora shook her head. “Not for a few hours, at least. And it’s already getting close to sunset.”

“There’s a train that goes right to Zaofu, it’s the provincial capital,” Asami said as Jinora turned another frightened gaze on her.

“We can’t leave him here!”

 _I had such high hopes for this day,_ Korra thought. “Okay, clearly we’re not flying out of here. We might as well find a place to stay.”

“Shouldn’t you have a standing reservation here somewhere?” Mako asked. “I mean, you did make the island.”

Korra ignored him. “What about your family, Jinora?”

“I hope I remember the way to their house.”

Jinora did not, in fact, remember the way to their house, and it was several wrong turns and backtracks before her pride allowed her to admit she didn’t know the exact route. “Okay, so it’s been a few years since I was here,” she said, sulking. “I’m not good at finding my way around cities anymore.”

“We could ask that woman that looks like Asami,” Mako said, nodding across the street at a woman overseeing the unloading of several crates. Asami scoffed.

“She doesn’t look like me.”

They both had a point, Korra thought. She looked like Asami in much the same way that any woman of a similar height with black hair and green eyes looked like Asami, but everything else was different. Her stance was more rigid, her hair was pulled back into a long, flowing braid, and a small beauty mark dotted the skin under her right eye. Her outfit was green and silver rather than red and black, and several gleaming strips on the sleeves marked her as a metalbender.

“No, she looks nicer,” Jinora said under her breath, jogging across the street with Korra. “Excuse me!”

The woman pointed the people handling the crates toward a nearby building before turning to them. “Yes?”

“We’re a little lost, do you know where…ugh, what’s the address…do you know where the mayor’s house is?”

Korra cocked an eyebrow. The woman gave them a small smile. “I would hope so. Two blocks north of the street there.”

“Thanks!”

Jinora went back across the street, leaving Korra to lock eyes with the woman for a moment. She didn’t drop her subtle smile, and Korra fiddled with one of her bag’s straps. “Thank you,” she mumbled, and hurried across the street to catch up with the others.

“Okay, this all looks familiar,” Jinora said when they arrived. It was a long, low building paneled in wood, classically designed and rather out of place in the modernizing city. If anything, it seemed more fitting as one of the outbuildings on Air Temple Island. The setting sun shone on a statue of Avatar Kyoshi on a pillar on the opposite corner of the street, gazing watchfully down on them as they went inside.

“So who’s the mayor?” Korra asked.

“My grandma’s brother’s son. I forget what kind of cousins that makes us.”

Jinora slid the door open, revealing a nearly empty entry hall with polished floors and bars running along the walls at waist-height. A few wooden practice swords hung in place in a corner. Doors on the far side of the room led into the rest of the building, half-concealed from the street. “Is this a dojo or a dance studio?” Mako asked.

“Both!”

A girl about Jinora’s age opened one of the far doors and walked up to them, shrugging off shoulder pads and a heavy black vest over a green tunic. Her face had been made up bone-white with red flourishes around her eyes, and a pair of gold fans hung from a loop on her belt.

“Looks like the statue outside,” Asami said.

“Suki!”

Jinora ran up to the girl, throwing herself into a powerful hug. They spun once, twice, and then settled back down, still hugging each other tightly. Their cheeks rubbed together, and when they separated Jinora had a smear of white makeup on her face, while a bit of the other girl’s olive skin shone through.

“Oh, uh, this is my second cousin, Suki. Suki, this is Avatar Korra, Mako, and Asami.”

“Whoa,” she said, going up to them. “The Avatar and the lady who brought the Air Nation back.”

Asami played with a button on her jacket to avoid meeting Suki’s gaze, which she turned on the last member of their group. “And…I guess I didn’t hear anything about you.”

“I’m just along for the ride,” Mako said.

Jinora slipped off one strap of her backpack and rubbed her shoulder. “Suki, my bison has to recover before we can get to Zaofu, would it be okay if we stayed here tonight?”

“Zaofu? You couldn’t have come at a better time!” Suki ran back into the house, shouting all the way. “Dad! Grandma! Cousin Jinora’s here! And she brought the Avatar!”

Suki proved to have a surprisingly strong grip as she led Korra through her house, making introductions. There was her younger brother Piandao, who hardly looked up from his book when they barged into his room; her father Hakoda, the mayor and the late Councilor Sokka’s son; her mother Koko, who made no small mention of being a descendant of Avatar Kyoshi; and her grandmother, also named Suki, who had traveled with the last Avatar and was not to be called Old Suki under any circumstances.

“Hey, this is really fun and all,” Korra said as Suki pulled her down another hallway, “But we stopped here because we needed supplies. Pepper ate all our food and we still need to get to Zaofu.”

“Oh, Dad will take care of all that, you’ll have so much stuff you won’t be able to take off!”

“That’s not really the goal…”

“But you have to stay for dinner, at least!” They came back around to the common room, where Mako, Jinora and Asami sat. Asami was examining a model of the bridge that connected Kyoshi Island with the mainland, while Jinora had nuzzled into Mako’s side with a book. “Besides, it’s dark now. You can’t fly at night. And we’ve got guests from Zaofu too, so your timing is perfect!”

“Our timing is usually horrible, actually,” Mako said, getting a smirk from Jinora, and even Asami grinned. “We show up in time to get attacked or have things blow up.”

“Please don’t blow anything up,” Suki said, dead serious for the first time since Korra met her. “There’s a recital in Ba Sing Se in a few weeks to prepare for and we need our practice space.”

“Don’t listen to Mako, he’s…just don’t listen to him.” He wasn’t exactly wrong, Korra knew, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “What guests do you have, Suki?”

“Probably only the one tonight, the others are using their new fancy train.”

A door slid shut in the next room, followed by footfalls in the hallway. “Anyone home? Mayor? Suki?”

The voice sounded oddly familiar, and Korra and Jinora pricked up as Suki went over to the door and threw it open. “Hi! Come in, there are new people for you to meet!”

She used her deceptively strong grip to drag in another woman, one with black hair, green eyes, and a small beauty mark on her right cheek. Korra let out a small _oh_ as they made eye contact and recognized one another.

“Kuvira, this is Avatar Korra, my cousin Jinora, and their friends Mako and Asami,” Suki said, pointing to each of them in turn. “And this is the Lieutenant Governor of the Jīnshǔ Province, Kuvira Beifong.”

Mako tensed up. _Beifong?_ Korra thought.

“Hello again,” Kuvira said, prying her way out of Suki’s grip and going to shake Korra’s hand. She deftly avoided squeezing on the scarred parts, and Korra felt a low warmth blooming up in her cheeks. Maybe she did look more like Asami than Korra gave her credit for. “I see my directions helped.”

“Yeah, thanks, Governor.”

“Oh, you can call me Kuvira. Suki, is your father around? Everything’s been unloaded, I need to clear up the last few details with him.”

They slipped out of the room, and Korra sank onto the couch next to Jinora, trying to tamp down the flush in her cheeks while looking guiltily at Asami.

Suki’s promise of dinner did not go unfulfilled, and after pushing two tables together her parents laid out more food than the ten of them could ever hope to eat. Every bit of space not covered by their plates and glasses was filled with platters of food, steamed elephant koi, mountains of rice, a thick beef stew, unagi sushi, soba and udon noodles by the bowlful, tempura, miso soup, and sunomono. Korra found herself between Asami and Kuvira on one side of the table, while Mako and Jinora sat opposite her. Aside from the steamed carrots, which Kuvira monopolized, Korra set out to try a little of everything. Jinora, too, seemed to have lost her qualms over eating meat, and had plenty of the sushi in between her excited conversations with her cousin.

“So Kuvira, you’re heading back to Zaofu in the morning?” Hakoda asked while trying to move a large plate of saffron rice. “You’re welcome to stay, you know.”

“I appreciate that, Mayor, but I took the majority of our militia for this aid mission and they’re anxious to go home. Not to mention the bandit issue we’re still dealing with. I’ll give your best to the Governor when I return.”

Old Suki huffed, and Hakoda pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mom, it’s been fifty years, you’ve got to let this go,” he said, his voice hinting that the same issue had come up many times before. “There’s no point to this silly grudge, and even if there was, you’re not holding it against the right person!”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Mom…”

“Is there something wrong with the administration?” Korra asked, looking down the table to where they sat. “I know Kyoshi Island used to be its own governorate before everything was reorganized.”

“Nothing so idealistic,” Kuvira whispered.

“My parents split up for a year when I was eight,” Hakoda said, still looking at his sour-faced mother. “And the Governor is my half-sister, Suyin. I’m sure you can fill in the blanks.”

Young Suki only seemed to hear part of her father’s explanation. Unfortunately, it was the part that got her grandmother riled up. “Are we going to visit Aunt Su? Can we, Dad? Zaofu is such a cool city!”

After that argument subsided and all the leftovers had been packed away, Hakoda went with Mako and Jinora to stable Pepper, leaving Asami, Korra and Kuvira in the common room. Young Suki brought them tea once they had calmed down Old Suki, and she was only too happy to launch into increasingly fantastical tales about her supposed ancestor, Avatar Kyoshi. Korra knew her view of Kyoshi was far from unbiased, but the stories were bordering on the impossible and nearly reverent. That might have been fine, Korra thought, if they weren’t so boring.

Try as she might, Suki had no gift for storytelling, and she went beet-red with embarrassment when Korra nodded off into Kuvira’s shoulder. “And, and, um, where was I again,” she mumbled, losing her place in her story of how Kyoshi singlehandedly trained a badger mole army. She drew her legs up against her chest, a dejected gesture Korra recognized from her cousin.

“Sorry, Suki, I’m…” _Incredibly bored with your ridiculous story?_

“It’s been a long day,” Kuvira offered. “For everyone. They were walking around half the city looking for your house, you know. And it’ll be an early day tomorrow. Seems like Korra only wanted to get a jump on it.”

“Thanks,” Korra said as quietly as she could. Jinora, Mako and Hakoda returned before Suki could muster a response, all looking thoroughly exhausted, and they took the opportunity to take their leave for the night. Mako bedded down the common room, Suki insisted on sharing her bedroom with Jinora, leaving Kuvira alone in one of the guest quarters, and Korra and Asami took the one next to it. It was a small guest room with a pair of beds, but Korra followed Asami to the one she picked out when they retired and sat behind her, pressing into her back.

“I thought that story about the Ba Sing Se dungeons would never end,” Korra said, sliding her hands along Asami’s waist and flitting under her nightgown. One finger brushed the scar on Asami’s hip and she twisted, her shudder barely visible in the dark. “Finally, some peace and quiet.”

“Korra, wait…”

She pressed light kisses into the side of Asami’s neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin there while her hands skimmed up, running up and over Asami’s chest. The traces of her fingers provoked a bout of trembling, the most reaction Korra had gotten in weeks, and she pressed on, moving up over the swells of Asami’s breasts. Her teeth sunk lightly into the pale flesh in front of her, but then it was gone, leaving Korra biting empty air as Asami pulled away.

“Hey—stop!”

She slammed a fist into the bed, letting air rush over and disturb the bed sheets. Korra backed away, confused, while Asami turned around and threw a scowl at her. “Just stop, okay?”

The edge in her voice cut deeply. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”

She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, refusing to make eye contact in the low light. “I don’t want to fool around, I don’t…I don’t want to do _this_ , Korra. There’s too much I need to figure out with myself and this airbending. I know I care for you, but I can’t give you the relationship you want. Neither of us deserve a half-hearted attempt.”

A vise around Korra’s heart began to squeeze. Her head spun, and she gripped at the bed sheets under her. “Asami, please, I told you I don’t have anything left besides you—”

“Do you know what kind of pressure that is, Korra? I saw you ready to tear Republic City apart. I was so scared when I was walking up to you, I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“Please don’t do this, I’ll figure out the energybending,” she said, tripping over her words while her eyes stung with tears. Her palms were growing clammy. “I’ll make it so you’re not an airbender anymore, just please, please don’t leave me…”

Asami rolled the bed sheets over her fingers, still refusing to meet Korra’s gaze. She was shaking, Korra saw. Or maybe that was her. Hot, sickening pressure built up in her head, bringing on a pounding ache. “I said I would help you find these people, and I will. But this? Whatever we have, or had beyond being friends? I’m sorry. I can’t.”

There were several moments of heavy, crushing silence before Asami picked herself up and went to the other bed. Korra slumped onto her side, reeling as if she had been punched in the gut, and passed out soon after, staring emptily at Asami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here](http://i.imgur.com/6n9zTGB.png) is a chart to make sense of all the new characters I just threw at you.


	18. The Metal Clan

“This had better be important, Councilor. I cut my beauty sleep short to be here.”

Bolin thought the tall, stolid Earth Kingdom woman sitting across from him needed all the beauty sleep she could get, but he only smiled at her comment. Her partner, Mako’s other lieutenant, a slim Water Tribe man with one arm in a sling, fared much better in that regard, but also looked ready to go back to sleep.

“I’m sure this meeting will be very productive for everyone, Miss…?”

“Shen. Li Shen. This is Kija. And neither of us liked the veiled threats that got us here, so what do you want, Councilor?”

“I want peace, same as everyone else. We’ve had three bombings since we sent Mako and Sato off with the Avatar. Eighteen people are dead, the Equalists are completely out of control.”

“You say that like you ever had them under control,” Shen said, to which Kija nodded. “You let them run around because the Council was in bed with Future Industries and now it’s biting you in the ass. Are we supposed to be providing sympathy?”

Bolin’s fist tightened under the table. “We had more important things to focus on when they weren’t killing people. Now they’re becoming a problem. Tourism has dropped to nothing. Imports are suffering since a bomb went off at the harbor. If you and your gang don’t start being useful, Chief Beifong might be encouraged to see you as the bigger problem.”

“We’re not killing innocent people,” Kija said. “We’re not blowing up monuments or cutting off trade.”

“Oh, I know that.” Bolin relaxed in his seat, eyeing both of them. “I only want to make sure the rest of the city keeps thinking that way. Think about what would happen if the police let everyone know about those other triads they fished out of the river. Big gang war? A headline like that would sell a lot of papers and put your people firmly in the limelight.”

Shen scowled, and a small crack appeared in the wall behind her. “At least your brother was direct with people. I don’t have time for this.”

“Mako called me last night, as a matter of fact. He’s on Kyoshi Island, so it looks like you’ll have to deal with me for now.”

“What do you _want_ , Councilor?”

“We need their effectiveness reduced, and I think you’re just the people for the job.”

“You want us to do the police’s work for them?” Kija asked, adjusting his sling. “Do we get badges?”

“If you want to chop the Equalists off at the knees, nationalize Future Industries,” Shen said. “That’s where they’re getting their material support, not to mention most of their members. All you have to do is smoke them out, they have a hierarchy like us. You were able to get a message to me and Kija, get one of the nonbending Councilors to reach out to them. But Future Industries is going to be the lynchpin. Why you let Sato leave without interrogating her first I’ll never understand, unless you didn’t want to jeopardize your chance with your brother’s sloppy seconds.”

The first light of the day began to creep through the window on the far side of his office. Below them on the first floor, the Council clerks and pages were beginning to shuffle in through the staff entrances. Bolin frowned. He had hoped the part of things with Future Industries wouldn’t be so obvious. “Well, aren’t you clever.”

“I’m no thug,” she said, crossing her arms. “I grew up in Gaoling, I went to the university there. My degree isn’t for show.”

“And now you’re a triad boss in Republic City. Interesting career choice.”

Her jaw set in a hard line. Bolin recognized the frustrated motion as his brother’s. “I have my reasons.”

“Well, Miss Shen, Kija, I don’t have all day, so I’ll make this brief. You put your attention on the Equalists, and I’ll keep Beifong focused on them right along with you. Think of all the nonbending shop owners paying protection money to them right now. You’ll have a whole new market to go and strangle once we deal with them. Think of how happy Mako will be.”

They looked at one another while Bolin tapped his foot slowly on the floor. He had slanted the room ever so slightly before they arrived to keep them off-balance, but it didn’t seem to be working. Kija leaned over when Shen whispered something, and his fingers laced up with hers when they drifted together. Interesting, Bolin thought. He would have to remember that.

“We won’t have much trouble convincing our people to go after Equalists,” Shen said. “But we’ll need two things. The beat cops stop bothering our number runners, and that anti-gang legislation Councilor Izana is pushing dies in committee.”

“They’ll ease up on the kids and the bill will get reworded.”

She drummed her fingers on the table. “No promises, then.”

“I will do what I can,” Bolin said through gritted teeth. “I’m not exactly swimming in political clout right now. The offices are about to open. I trust you can see yourselves out without attracting attention.”

They stood up and went for the door while Bolin leaned back in his seat. “Miss Shen?”

“Yes?”

“What brought you to Republic City?” Bolin asked. “Why not teach in Gaoling or find a job with the civil service in Ba Sing Se? If you don’t mind my asking. I don’t know a lot of triads with degrees, and I know a lot of triads.”

Kija waited for her by the door. “I came looking for my brother.”

“And did you find him?”

Sadness flitted across her face. “Not yet.”

Without another word, they left, and Bolin fixed the floor. Why not ask for help with that, he wondered. No time to think about it just then. He scribbled down every way he could think of to write her surname and stuffed the paper in his pocket.

“Very productive meeting,” he said, bending a metal paperweight on the table into different shapes. They were so confident, and all the more vulnerable for it. They were so like children. Bolin smiled, imagining all the pieces falling into place. “Very productive.” _All according to plan._

⁂

“I know you’re all angry with me, but please, say something, anything.”

The shrine in the central courtyard of Suki’s home was silent. Korra sat alone in the middle while the first few rays of sunlight crept through the slatted wood walls. Avatar Kyoshi’s things surrounded her, and Korra faced an ornately carved statue of her past life, intricate details casting a watchful gaze over the shrine. She had a sense that she wasn’t supposed to be holding one of Kyoshi’s fans, but…Avatar’s prerogative, she figured.

Not that it helped. No matter how she tried to clear her mind and connect with the relics around her, she only saw Ming-Hua’s lifeless face staring back at her when she closed her eyes. A few light beads of cold sweat trickled down her neck when she tried.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” she asked, her free hand balling up. “Why are you leaving me, too?”

She slammed her fist into the floor, making her knuckles sing with pain as the skin there scratched away. “I need you. I need you, and you’ve all abandoned me! Aang was gone for a hundred years, you talked to him!”

Tears trickled down her cheeks, her restless night finally catching up with her. She thought she had cried herself dry already, but the tears still came, hot and wet on her skin. “Why won’t you talk to me? I’m just as much the Avatar as you all were.”

Kyoshi’s statue looked impassively down at her, mocking in all its silence. Her teeth ground against her tongue in her mouth. “Raava will talk to me. Why won’t you? What if you are all useless, like Zaheer said? I mastered the elements without your help! I can bend metal and blood, things you could never do! What more do I have to prove?”

With a start, Korra shook her head clear. She couldn’t fall back into that, she knew. It was all honeyed words coating bitter poison and nothing else. The thought even crossed her mind to reach out and snatch the words from the air.

Soft footfalls padded up the creaking wooden steps, and Korra looked over her shoulder to see Jinora in the doorway, standing there in her nightgown and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Connecting with your past lives?” she asked, sitting down beside Korra.

“No, but not for a lack of trying. They must still be sleeping,” Korra said. “What about you? You don’t exactly look rested.”

“The walls between the rooms are really thin, and Kuvira snores. A lot. It’s like someone was sawing through a log.”

Korra smiled and ruffled Jinora’s hair. “Well, it’s plenty quiet in here. Not sure what the policy on sleeping is, though.”

“You don’t look so good yourself…were you crying?” Jinora asked, brushing her thumb on Korra’s cheek, where a wet line had marred her skin.

“Oh. A little.” She felt that wound ripping open again, like it had all through the night, but her last spate of tears seemed to have dried her up. Oddly enough it hurt more to not be able to cry the pain out. “Asami broke up with me. Said she couldn’t handle it with everything else that’s going on.”

“I’m sorry.” Jinora nestled against her side. “I guess it wouldn’t help much to suggest cultivating nonattachment about this kind of thing.”

Korra shook her head. “I don’t think I’m ready to open that chakra yet.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“I mean, I…I can sort of understand—” Korra’s voice was still ragged— “But it still hurt so much. And it hurts even though I don’t know if it’s because I really liked her or because she was the first person who was ever nice to me without wanting something in return.”

“Might’ve been both,” Jinora offered.

“What do you think?”

She laughed a little despite herself. “You realize you’re asking someone who was raised as a nun? Someone who doesn’t have much experience with this stuff?”

Korra looked down at the fan in her hand again. “I don’t, either.”

“Relationships are complicated. My dad thinks we don’t know he still has a thing for the chief of police and how much it hurts our mom, but we don’t pretend to understand. We just know that it’s complicated.”

“That cranky old biddy?”

Jinora shrugged. “Like I said. Complicated.”

“Everything was so simple before I came to Republic City,” Korra said, almost mournfully. “It used to be that all I had to worry about was training.”

“To become an assassin!”

She strained and tried to push the memories out of her mind. “Fair enough.”

They sat still for a while, wordlessly falling into meditative stances. Twilight slipped into dawn, and the sounds of the beginning day gradually seeped in to bring them back to reality. Korra cracked one eye and looked back, where she saw Asami heading to the shower. Her heart twisted up.

“I don’t think I ever really apologized,” Korra said, desperate to distract herself. Jinora took a deep breath and relaxed her stance.

“For what?”

“For letting you believe you got your bending back, when we were on Air Temple Island. You would be walking the circle every day when I got there, and when I left you’d still be at it.”

“Oh.” Jinora got herself out of her lotus position and let her legs splay out, sighing in relief as she did. “I guess I never really thought about it. Dad showed up that night saying you were the Avatar, and the next morning there were Equalists all over the island. There wasn’t time for me to think about it and connect the dots until we were over the ocean, and by then there were other things to focus on.”

“Right. Well, anyway…I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” She smiled weakly and turned to Korra. “Even though it didn’t ever work, I felt really good when I was walking the circle. Like I was always right on the edge of a breakthrough. I hadn’t felt like that since before I was—since before I got my bending taken.”

Korra reached over and hugged her, squeezing tightly when Jinora’s more slender arms wrapped around her. All the past Avatars were still silent, but somewhere deep inside, in some minute way, she felt the division between herself and Aang weaken.

“You may not be my granddaughter,” she said, putting her hand through Jinora’s flow of thick brown hair. “But you will always be my friend.”

“I—thank you.”

She felt small points of moisture on her undershirt until Jinora pulled away, trying and failing to wipe her eyes dry discreetly. “I’m going to get ready.”

Jinora left the shrine, hopping along the stones that formed a path through the gravel back to the house. Korra stood up and spared one last look at Kyoshi’s statue, eyes still following her in mute appeal.

“You all can’t stay silent forever,” she said, and strode out.

Mako and Jinora had stayed with Katara and Kya while they were in the Southern Water Tribe, and Korra never had to contend with getting the four of them up and ready to go before noon. Somehow everyone got showered and dressed, and to save time they declined breakfast, promising they would eat in Zaofu instead. Kuvira left alongside them for the train yard, where Pepper’s impromptu stable was located. Suki joined them as well, walking along with Jinora and looking far too chipper for the early hour. Mako found himself walking between Korra and Asami, and despite his every effort to get out of the tense space between them, they always reformed their ranks with him in the middle.

She didn’t seem any different, Korra thought as she snuck a glance at Asami, or she was hiding it well. Fair enough, they had an important job to do. If Asami could be professional about it, so could Korra. In any event, she was too burned out between her latest failure to contact the past Avatars, a lack of sleep and food, and their breakup, such that it was, to feel much hurt.

Pepper bounded out of the empty train shed when he saw them approaching, scattering three of Kuvira’s militia in his hurry to get to them. He nearly jumped on Mako and Jinora, leaving the rest of them to duck out of the way. Mako got a face full of bison tongue before Pepper gently bumped Jinora with his head.

“Come on, I just showered,” Mako said, trying in vain to wipe himself clean. “How come you don’t do that to her?”

“You fly on that thing?” Kuvira asked, maintaining an appreciable distance from Pepper. Mako and Asami threw their things up into the saddle while Jinora spoke with Suki.

“It’s surprisingly pleasant,” Korra said, feeling a sudden need to defend it. There wasn’t any condescension in Kuvira’s voice that she could detect, but something in it made her want to convince the other woman. “We’re going to Zaofu too, why don’t you give it a try?”

Pepper playfully nipped at Mako’s sleeve. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t even like airships that much, I’ll stick with the train.” Kuvira motioned for a few members of the militia who were waiting around to get the train started. “Which you’re welcome to ride along on, we are both going to Zaofu, after all.”

Kuvira had evidently gotten much more sleep than any of them, because she sounded much more alert and aware than they did. There was a certain temptation in her calm, measured contralto, and Korra felt the ground beneath her feet grow uneasy. She looked back at Pepper, where Mako and Asami were securing the lashings of his saddle.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will. Let me tell them.”

She nodded, and Korra jogged back to where they were preparing to take off. Hakoda had indeed loaded the saddle back up with supplies, but not so much that Pepper was unable to take off, thankfully. Jinora and Suki cut Korra off before she could tell them anything.

“Here, this is for you,” Suki said, holding out a long sandalwood mala. “My mom says it was my great-great-great-great…um, she said it was Avatar Kyoshi’s. Mom says it’s from the Eastern Air Temple.”

Korra took the bracelet and let it hang in her grip. One hundred and eight small dark beads looped around on a bright white string, rolling easily in her hand. The string terminated in a complex knot emerging from one of the beads, brushing on Korra’s wrist when she wrapped the mala over itself and put it on her unscarred arm. Kyoshi’s or not, it sent a small cascade through her mind to the same place where she felt the gulf between her and Aang shrink.

“Thanks, Suki, this is really great. I hate to take your cousin away so soon, but it looks like we’re about ready to go.”

She turned to Jinora. “You didn’t tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Korra asked, twisting her wrist to let the mala fall into a comfortable position. Mako and Asami came up behind her once they had secured Pepper’s saddle.

“I thought I might stay for a while,” Jinora said, grinding her boot nervously into the ground. “Suki offered to let me train with her and the Kyoshi Warriors here. I couldn’t use Pepper, so you’d have him for as long as you needed.”

“Really? Fans, swords, all that?” Mako asked.

“And boomerangs!” Suki said, beaming.

“You felt the need to apologize before about the airbending thing more than two months after the fact. I guess I don’t want to feel defined by what I’ve lost.”

Korra nodded and hugged her, letting Jinora rest in the crook of her shoulder. “We’ll keep in touch,” Korra said as they separated. “And let your dad know you stayed here, okay? I’m sure he’s been on edge.”

“Will do.”

Jinora begrudgingly offered her hand to Asami, and she shook it after a moment. “I know you don’t believe me, but there are worse things you could be than an airbender.”

Asami looked at her free hand. “Mmhmm.”

She went to Mako last. Korra saw a slight reddening in their cheeks, and she couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. Jinora fiddled with her hands while Mako stumbled through his goodbyes. “Don’t get too reckless with those swords, okay? Or the boomerangs, Bolin had one of those when we were kids, it came back around and clocked him in the head. And if Pepper throws me off I’m sending back his pelt—”

Jinora shut him up by throwing her arms around him and planting her lips on his. Korra’s jaw dropped, Asami rolled her eyes, and Suki squealed and clapped her hands. Mako’s eyes widened and he tried to pull away for a moment, but Jinora tightened her grip until he relented and kissed her back. He returned her hug as well, lifting her up so that she didn’t have to stand on her toes to reach him.

Once she broke away, gasping for air, Jinora settled in against him, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said, giving him one last squeeze. “Thank you for making me feel safe again.”

Mako patted her gently on the head, still looking shell-shocked. “Yeah, no problem…”

Blushing a bright scarlet, Jinora shuffled over to Suki’s side while everyone else came back to their senses. Asami climbed into the saddle without another word, but Korra had to wave her arm in front of Mako’s face to bring him back to coherence. She pushed her backpack into his hands. “Hey, lover boy. I’m taking the train, you’ve got Pepper. Just follow the tracks.”

He cocked an eyebrow, turning back toward Asami and then to Korra, but she was already headed for the train.

⁂

“Fly the bison, Mako…do this, Mako, do that, Mako…”

Pepper sneezed, rocking mightily in the air and sending Mako scrambling to keep himself balanced on the bison’s neck. He looked down at the ground, a wash of greens and browns with a line of silver track cutting through. The Zaofu militia’s train sped north at a steady pace beneath them, passing by several small villages and towns. Pepper followed behind the train, and whenever they approached a settlement and the ground shook, people would gather near the station to watch it go by.

“They’ve got plenty of good will built up,” he said, easing himself back into the saddle and tying the reins to a catch. “Keep going this way, Pepper. I’ll find you some good fruit when we get to Zaofu.”

He growled and beat his tail, driving them forward. Mako took the opportunity to stretch his arms and legs, the first chance he had in hours. However large the Jīnshǔ Province was, Mako thought, it was too large. It was well past noon and Zaofu was nowhere in sight. The rail line simply stretched endlessly north, branching off every so often while the train continued on the central path to the capital. There were sixteen cars speeding along. Mako wondered which one Korra was in, wondered if she was with that woman.

Beifong…well, Mako thought, Zaofu was going to be interesting.

“Is there any more of that sushi?” he asked. Asami slid over one of the packages of leftovers Koko had pressed into their hands before leaving. Mako unwrapped it and popped a roll of unagi into his mouth. He wondered idly if he could unroll one of Korra’s metalbending scrolls to use as a plate. “You know, it occurs to me that the Avatar left us alone when she’s supposed to be babysitting us.”

Asami cringed at the mention of Korra and picked at her rice. “So?”

“So we have a flying bison, a month’s worth of food, and no supervision.”

“You’re not going to steal Pepper,” Asami said, rolling her eyes. “It’d make your girlfriend mad.”

“Hey, she kissed me.”

“She’s _seventeen_.” The distaste in her voice was palpable.

Mako pursed his lips. It was going to be one of those days, then. “I don’t know, you were pretty into me when you were seventeen.”

“Teenagers make dumb choices.”

“Ouch,” Mako said. He picked up another sushi roll, but decided against it. “I forgot to ask, why _is_ Korra on that train and not up here? Why was I running interference on the way to the rail yard? You two have a lover’s spat last night? Someone not finish?”

“Yeah, and you’re really the expert in girls not finishing, aren’t you, Mako?”

That rankled him. A number of retorts crossed his mind, but he thought better of riling up a depressive airbender so far above the ground. In any event, he had no chance to reply before she spoke again. “Whatever we were, me and Korra…I ended it last night.”

A pit in Mako’s stomach dropped. It must have shown on his face, because Asami almost laughed. “Don’t tell me you feel sorry for me,” she muttered, drawing her legs up against her chest.

“The only reason Korra didn’t blow me apart in Republic City is because you and Jinora love-bombed her on the boardwalk. Jinora’s off at Kyoshi boot camp and you _broke up_ with her? A woman who might not be the most emotionally stable person in the world and who’s on a global vendetta?”

“So you only care about how it affects you?”

“Worrying that someone who’s attacked me several times might do it again if she gets upset?” Mako asked. “I’ll admit it crossed my mind. You know how screwed up she was after she killed that nut in the Southern Water Tribe? I found her crying her eyes out in a pool of her own vomit. Those Red Lotus people, they royally messed her up!”

Asami ran her hand through her hair and put up the other to stop him from talking. “I know! I know, okay? The whole time last night I was begging myself to stop and kiss her instead, but I couldn’t. I’m not in a place where I can do that for her and have this relationship—we didn’t even _have_ a relationship, I cooked her dinner a few times and we had sex once!”

“Who are you trying to convince?” Mako asked. “Because whatever you thought you had or didn’t have, it made her ditch us.”

“I’m done talking about this,” Asami said shortly. “Either pick another subject or I’ll blow you out of the saddle.”

Mako put his hands out in a conciliatory gesture and went back to flying Pepper.

⁂

The narrow, rickety streetcars of Republic City paled in comparison to the Zaofu militia’s train, speeding along so smoothly that the only indication of movement was the blurring countryside in the windows. It made Korra dizzy to watch for too long, and she focused instead on her meal, served in the tightly packed mess car. Koko had insisted on sending them off with several containers of saffron rice, and Korra picked at her share while she watched Kuvira inform her quartermaster that it was not, in fact, appropriate to bet half the train’s armory in a dice game. He shrunk further and further into his seat until Kuvira paused, hauled him back up by his shoulder pads into a proper sitting position, and continued dressing him down.

“He won’t do that again,” she said, returning to her and Korra’s table. “Enjoying the ride?”

“It’s really some train you’ve got here, where’d it come from?”

Kuvira leaned back in her seat and sighed. “It was a military project, designed for large-scale troop transport over the rail network. This train, and the province’s rail lines, were supposed to be the proof of concept, but then the queen decided that palace renovations were a better use of taxes than a standing army or infrastructure. The military doesn’t exist beyond a few garrisons in Ba Sing Se anymore, so we just…took it for our militia. It wouldn’t be effective anywhere without the rail lines, anyway.”

The track began to turn, and the water in Korra’s glass sloped. “Your queen took all that money for home improvement? That’s exactly the kind of thing that would’ve gotten me riled up before.”

“Yes, I heard your speech at the Southern Water Tribe.”

Korra felt her face burning. “Right, that was being broadcast everywhere. I’m not crazy, I promise, I just got carried away at the end there.”

“Judging by the fact that you didn’t try and take a swing at me when you found out I was the Lieutenant Governor last night, I’m inclined to believe you,” she said, smiling slightly and patting Korra’s hand. “Besides, if these people you’re looking for really are as bad as you say, you have bigger things to worry about than some provincial authorities.”

 _Hunting,_ Korra thought. _Not looking for. Hunting._ “Well, thanks. Even my father’s security was cagey around me after that speech. I know they were only doing their job, but it still stung.”

“I guess they didn’t take the time to get to know you,” Kuvira said.

She fiddled with her hands while a radio on the wall buzzed and a sergeant answered it. “Ma’am, Governor Beifong for you.”

_Wait, what?_

Kuvira got up and took the handset. “Good afternoon, Governor…yes, we passed Jiātíng Mountain about an hour ago. We should be back soon. The Mayor sends his regards, and you’ll never guess who we picked up along the way…it’s a surprise, you’ll be interested, I’m sure…yes, I will…I love you, too,” she said quickly, blushing before putting the receiver back and returning to the table.

“I thought you were Governor Beifong,” Korra said, setting aside her rice.

“We both are. It can get confusing if people don’t use my full title. Suyin is my mother.”

“Oh, then the Mayor was your uncle?”

“Not exactly.” Kuvira drummed her fingers on the table. “I’m adopted.”

There was a bitterness in her voice that cautioned Korra against asking after the matter. Kuvira scowled at the table between them until Korra changed the subject. “So, how come you were on Kyoshi Island? I heard something about it being an aid mission last night?”

She seemed to brighten up at that. “There was an influenza outbreak on the island a few months ago. It burned through their medical supplies, we were delivering some surplus before the winter got really bad. How about you?”

“We had to pick up some supplies before going on.” Korra looked out the window, up toward the sky. “They’d better still be following the train. I have enough people to track down.”

“You seemed a little acerbic with them earlier.”

Unpleasant recollections of the night before bubbled up, threatening to start her crying again. Korra crossed her arms tightly over her chest, rubbing the scarred skin of her arm on her clothes. “We needed a break from each other, I guess.”

“Well, I’m glad you came along with me.”

She gave Korra a fuller smile for the first time, making the heat rise in Korra’s cheeks while they sat in silence for several minutes. Another sergeant came into the car before she could reply, wringing his hands. “Ma’am, we’ve lost contact with the advance team. And Zaofu.”

Kuvira’s eyes narrowed as she stood up. Korra followed behind them as they went to the lead car, cutting through a swath of increasingly tense militia. The radioman in the lead car behind the engineers driving the train scrambled out of his seat when Kuvira strode in.

“How long have we been out of contact?” she asked. “Are you sure the advance team didn’t simply arrive and neglected to tell us?”

“No ma’am, they couldn’t have arrived until a moment ago. Their last check-in should have been five minutes ago, and I can’t get anything when I try Zaofu. We haven’t heard from the city since the Governor called for you.”

Korra’s hackles began to rise as Kuvira tried the radio, sliding through different frequencies. She tried a hail on each one, but her only answer was static each time. After her fourth cycle through, Kuvira put the headset down and went up behind the engineers to look out the front windshield.

“The emergency channel shouldn’t be down unless they closed the domes,” Kuvira muttered, shifting her balance as the train made its last turn on approach to the city. “Oh, no.”

Zaofu was massive.

Zaofu was gleaming.

Zaofu was under siege.

Near the base of one of the massive, sealed domes, several vehicles were parked around a number of earthbenders, all pummeling the bright platinum walls with boulders. Three small black spheres arced up from the group at the approaching train, careening through the air and finally splattering on the windshield. The cabin went dark for a moment before one of the engineers hit a switch and turned on the lights. A dark, viscous substance oozed over the windshield, leaving them blind.

“Viper squid ink,” Kuvira said through gritted teeth. “Clear the glass!”

Powerful jets of water erupted from the sides of the windshield, blowing away enough of the ink to give them a view. There was only a single rail approach to Zaofu, a long, exposed path through the southern valley formed by the mountains encircling the city to the north, east and west. It made the city extremely defensible, and any hostile approach a suicide run. Farther up the track on the last straightaway, Korra saw what must have been the advance train, derailed and lying on its side.

Kuvira turned and stormed out of the cabin. “Stop the train!” she barked, slamming a button on the wall that sent a siren shrieking over the intercom. Korra followed her into the next car, where she threw open a locker before stripping off her uniform in favor of the armor in the locker. An unpleasant sinking feeling reminded Korra that her own armor was in her backpack aboard Pepper, somewhere far above them.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid, why’d you take so many people, you’re so worthless…”

A long white scar ran from one of Kuvira’s shoulder blades to the small of her back, quickly covered by her armor while she muttered furiously to herself. Korra shook her head clear and grabbed a railing as the train’s brakes kicked in, lurching them to a slow, shuddering crawl. With a wave of her hand, Kuvira bent the nearest door open and jumped out, sprinting toward the bandits with Korra close behind.

There looked to be about twenty of them, plus however many were in the vehicles. All earthbenders from what Korra could see, barraging a ground-level gate with volley after volley of stones. More of the militia began spilling out of the train behind them, hastily garbed in dark green armor and helmets. Once they were close enough, Kuvira landed hard from a stride, spinning before rooting herself and grabbing the metal frame of the nearest vehicle. She wrenched it up into the air, turning it so that one of the sides faced the bandits, and lobbed it forward, leaving them to scatter. A few of them fired back, leaving Korra and Kuvira to deflect stones raining down on them until the militia caught up to their position.

“Get the truck,” she said to Korra, ripping up the earth around her to grab two oblong boulders and hurl them. The flourishes she used to send them flying looked more like dancing than combat, Korra thought. She reached out, feeling the coolness and neutrality of the truck’s metal, and grasped it with ease. It tilted upwards, balancing on its front end for a moment before crashing down on a few of the bandits.

A low roar broke over the constant crash of earth, and Pepper swooped down, skimming the ground with his massive feet while jets of fire erupted from above his head. The stream of boulders stopped while the bandits regrouped, and Korra saw an opportunity. She broke ranks with Kuvira, finally loosening her stance as she grabbed at the earth beneath her.

The heat hit her before the fissures appeared in the ground, bubbling up with bright reds and oranges. More cracks appeared in a ring around the bandits, lava flowing out amidst their panicked screams. Their vehicles began to slip into the pooling molten earth, the frames twisting and melting under the heat. Pepper circled back above them, finally landing with enough force to throw Mako to the ground.

Kuvira caught up with her, throwing strips of metal from her uniform to cover the bandits’ eyes and bind their wrists before looking at the lava in fascination. “Remind me not to get you mad,” she said, recoiling from the heat. “And thanks for the help.”

Half of the militia set about starting repairs to the rail line while the other half encircled and rounded up the bandits one by one. Korra cooled and smoothed the ground she melted while Kuvira signaled to have the domes opened. The skyline rivaled that of Republic City, glittering metal shining brilliantly in the midday sun. A few of the city guards stabled Pepper while Kuvira led them into the city and toward the main government building.

“It’s good you arrived when you did, Mako,” Kuvira said. “I don’t know what they were expecting, but I doubt it was a massive flying bison.”

He looked at her curiously for a moment before realizing that someone was giving him genuine praise. Mako mumbled his thanks and became very interested in the ground. Korra and Asami both laughed, but the humor faded somewhat when they made eye contact.

The capital building was no less grand than its neighbors, its platinum façade catching the light and reflecting it as countless bright sunbursts. A pair of guards by the entrance stood at attention as Kuvira went by, leading them into a small rotunda where the ceiling and the walls were adorned with masterful metalwork. She brought them to a door off to the side that opened onto a large office overlooking the eastern half of the city. A woman in a dark green tunic and graying black hair was standing beside a desk inside, looking over a stack of papers until she noticed her visitors. Mako flinched, and Korra noted more than a passing resemblance to Republic City’s police chief.

“Kuvira,” she said, dropping the forms and going up to hug the younger woman.

“I’m sorry I took so much of the militia, you needed them here,” Kuvira mumbled, letting her face fall against the woman’s shoulder.

“Well, you brought them back in time. And I see you found some new friends?”

“Right.” She straightened up and gestured to each of them. “Mom, this is Avatar Korra, Mako, and Asami. This is my mother, Governor Suyin Beifong.”

“Please, ‘Su’ is more than enough, all the standing on ceremony gets tiring quickly. It’s nice to meet you all. I’m sorry about the unpleasantness at the gate, we’ve had a little bandit problem lately. But it seems like you don’t have any problems handling yourself.”

The door behind them creaked open. “Governor, I have the report on the sandbenders at the northeast end of the province you wanted.”

Korra felt a chill snake up her spine as she turned around. An older man stood in the doorway, dressed in a rich beige tunic with glasses and a small gold chain hanging between the piercings on his nose and ear. His eyes widened as she caught his gaze, and small sparks flew around her tightening fist.

“Yes, I’ll take that,” Su said. “This is our Foreign Minister—”

“Aiwei!” Korra shouted, flames bursting from her hands.


	19. Kuvira's Gambit

The day had started off so well, Kuvira thought. She had a nice shower and breakfast, ensured that everyone left on time, and even got to spend the morning with the Avatar. Korra was even more striking in person than in the newspapers, wrestling with personal issues as she was. Cuter, if Kuvira was being perfectly honest with herself. She looked quite a bit less composed with Kuvira’s coils wrapped around her wrists, but even that had a certain twisted appeal.

“What are you doing?” she asked, fighting against the restraints. “Let me go! He’s one of them!”

“You need to calm down,” Kuvira said. Korra was frighteningly strong, and she felt her grip on the metal loosening as Korra strained to pull away. “You told me you weren’t crazy, prove it.”

Her gaze slipped to Su, who was watching everything with her usual impassive expression. She bit the inside of her cheek. Of course it would all happen in front of Su, and Kuvira was the one that brought her in there. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

She shook her head clear and turned back to the others. Mako had disappeared, and Asami was still looking worriedly around. Aiwei had ducked out of the office as soon as Korra started throwing fire.

“Please, you don’t understand,” Korra said, her pleading punctuated by a few more ineffectual tugs against the coils. “He’s with them, he’s with the Red Lotus!”

“Aiwei is our foreign minister and one of my oldest friends,” Su said, fiddling with one of the metal links of her necklace. “Government officials and anarchists don’t have much overlap.”

Kuvira looked at her mother and smiled. Su was right. Su was always right. Another yank from Korra jolted her back to the present. Asami ran her hand through her hair and bounced back and forth on her heels.

“You’re sure it’s him, Korra?” she asked.

“Of course I’m sure! I’d recognize that stupid piercing anywhere! Now _let me go_!”

She began to shake, and the air around her crackled. Kuvira prepared to detach the coil spools from her hips, but Asami grabbed one of the wires around Korra’s wrist before she could push a charge through it. The air settled, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Don’t do something stupid, Korra!”

“What do you care?”

Asami recoiled, wringing her hands while Su frowned and crossed her arms. “Avatar Korra, if you’re going to be attacking officials I need you to leave my province—”

“Wait!”

Mako burst back into the room, weighed down with several rolls of dull gray metal. His face was red and his breathing labored, as if he had run up and down every step in the city. Asami grabbed one of the rolls as his grip gave out, leaving the rest to spill noisily onto the floor.

“Scrolls…from Korra’s house,” he gasped out, stumbling over to a decanter Su kept on a side table. The stopper clattered on its serving dish, and he sputtered out the clear liquid when he realized it was sake.

Korra nodded frantically at the one in Asami’s hand, and she brought it over to Su. The metal lifted up out of Asami’s grip and unfurled in the air. To Kuvira it looked like any other metalbending scroll, similar to the one she had learned from when she was a child. Confusion colored Su’s features, and then it clicked for her. It _was_ one of the scrolls she had learned from.

“This is mine,” Su said softly, rolling it back up and bending the others toward her. “These are all etchings my mother gave me. But—but they were stolen, we imprisoned the thief. He denied it but Aiwei knew he was…lying…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and called off Kuvira. The coils retracted, leaving small red rings on Korra’s wrists. “Sorry,” Kuvira mumbled. “Training kicked in.”

“Aiwei brought them himself, ten years ago. You have an innocent man in jail on the word of your truth seer. Mako, did you run all the way back to Pepper to get these?”

His breath was still ragged as he slumped against the wall. “Stabled nearby. Thank me later.”

“Oh, I could kiss you right now.”

Kuvira felt herself blanch at that right along with Asami. “Please don’t,” he said through a cough.

“Now do you believe me?” Korra asked, gingerly touching the bruise on her scarred wrist. “I’m going to find him.”

“We should at least see what he has to say,” Kuvira said, going to the door. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I’ve had worse. His office, his home, where would he be?”

Su led them all to the empty Foreign Minister’s office on the second floor of the building that looked out on the opposite side of the city from her own. Korra picked up a carved wooden lotus from a bookcase, rolled her eyes, and turned it around so everyone else could see the back. It was stained a bright carmine.

“Their subtlety leaves something to be desired,” Mako said, garnering a mirthless laugh from Su.

The wood caught flame in Korra’s hand, burning until the ashes crumbled in her fist. “He’s not here. Where does he live?”

“His house is at the east end of the city, near the base of Pàntú Mountain,” Su said, nervously twirling the bit of hair that always hung at the side of her face. It was a gesture Kuvira recognized, the same little tic she fell into when her brothers got too rough with their sports or when she woke up in the hospital with her back shredded. Su was scared, and that terrified Kuvira.

Mako was still catching his breath as they got onto the tram, and Asami alternated between giving him concerned glances and cool indifference. If he noticed, he said nothing. They seemed like interesting companions for Korra, Kuvira thought. Su was silent the whole way to the end of the line, where the mountain range that embraced the city loomed above them.

“It’s that one,” Kuvira said, pointing out the small, somewhat austere cottage set right up against the cliff face. They cut through a park to get there, where Kuvira saw her sister with a book on one of the benches.

“Mom? Kuvira? What’s going on?”

“Opal, did you see Aiwei just now?” Su asked.

“A little while ago, he went into his house,” she said, motioning to it. “I called out to him, but I guess he was in a hurry. What happened, is something wrong? Is it more bandits?”

Korra ran ahead of them, with Mako and Asami behind her. Kuvira wanted to tell them to wait until they could get backup, but somehow she knew it would fall on deaf ears, and so she turned to Opal instead. “You should head home, okay?”

“But—”

“Please, Opal. Go find Dad and go back to the house.”

She stood up, but Kuvira didn’t wait to see if she listened. Su was following Korra and her friends, and Kuvira ran to catch up with them.

“We should form a perimeter, cover all the windows and the back door.”

Su didn’t get to finish her suggestion before Korra kicked the door down, fists already balled up with sparks swirling around them. Mako fell into a firebending stance as well, following Korra as she swept through the house, but Asami only put herself into a standard chi blocking form. Kuvira thought she remembered their intelligence service telling them she had become an airbender along with some others in Republic City, but if it was true she was hiding it. They also had some less savory things to say about Asami Sato and her connections with the Equalists. She went in to clear the room with them, shearing some metal off of her armbands.

The foyer led into an open living and kitchen area, full of shelves with little curios and almost disconcertingly neat. It always unnerved Kuvira when she had to come by. The smallest speck of dust would seem an unwelcome intrusion, to say nothing of a person, but Su liked it, and so she held her tongue. Between the five of them, they were able to quickly clear the house and found no one else. Kuvira opened a desk drawer and pulled out several blue scrolls, unfurling them and holding the edges down.

“Blueprints,” she said to no one in particular, which led to Asami hovering over her shoulder. It was the most interest she had displayed in the short time Kuvira had known her. She caught the scent of Asami’s perfume as she reached around and pointed at red circles drawn on the scrolls.

“What buildings are these?” Asami asked.

Kuvira pointed to each of them in turn. “The capital, the old executive office building, and the courthouse.”

“And if there were explosions at the circled points?”

“They’d collapse, probably killing everyone inside. Definitely not a controlled demolition, losing these support columns would bring the roof down.”

Asami cocked her head.

“My brother’s an engineer. I guess some of his babbling stuck with me.”

“Hey,” Mako said, calling them over. He knelt down beside a bookcase off the living room and ran his fingers over the wood floor. Small scratch marks shone through the veneer. “This bookcase was moved, and quickly. Can one of you metalbenders—”

Korra slid the bookcase into the side wall with such force that it crashed right through and onto the lawn. Behind its former resting place was a sloppy wooden frame leading down some earthen stairs to a heavy metal door. “Move it for me,” Mako finished.

Su sighed deeply, and Kuvira went to her side. She put her hand on her mother’s back, but it felt like cold comfort. It seemed their truth seer had his own secrets.

“Hey, wait up!”

Mako’s admonition fell on deaf ears as Korra started down the staircase. _This girl is going to get herself killed,_ Kuvira thought, running after her. Korra ripped the door off its hinges, and in the instant before it crashed into the wall, a faint _snap_ made Kuvira’s ears prick up. Pressure built up in her chest as the adrenaline raced, and her gaze settled on a black drum in the middle of the newly revealed room. Wires spooled out of it and into a softly pulsing red light on top that went steady as the door landed.

“Oh.” It was all Korra got out before Kuvira yanked her back and threw them both down. She landed on top of Korra as the explosion ripped over her back, heating up her armor so fast she thought it would fuse to her skin. The scar there ached, nerves twisting up like countless knives digging into her body.

And then, as quickly as it had come on, the heat and noise were gone. The flash burned into her eyelids began to fade, and the pain in her back lessened slowly. Kuvira shook to minimize her contact with the armor, and wondered vaguely what was pressing on her cheek.

_Oh._

It was Korra’s cheek, retaining a bit of her light foundation as she pulled away and got herself to her feet. Kuvira rolled her shoulders and offered the Avatar her hand. “You okay?”

“These people and their bombs,” Korra muttered, pushing past Kuvira and back into what remained of the hidden room before she paused. “Thank you.”

Whatever might have been in the room had been blown to uselessness and covered in a thick layer of soot. The remains of a haphazard frame holding up the entrance to a tunnel were splintered and strewn about near the far wall, and a quick sweep of the room turned up nothing else of value. Su retracted the metal sole of her boot and slammed her bare foot into the ground.

“You have to take your boot off for that?” Korra asked.

“Only if you want it to work,” Su said, her eyes closed. “The tunnel’s totally collapsed. I can feel it going east, into the mountain. Nothing more.”

Korra punched the empty space in front of her, fire and rushes of air shooting out from around her hands. “So that’s it? He just gets away?”

“Maybe not,” Kuvira said as she tugged on her hair braid. The motion soothed her as it always had, since she was a child. “If the tunnel leads straight into the mountain, we could keep collapsing it. Smoke him out.”

“That’s a big _if_ ,” Mako said, wiping some soot off his jacket.

Asami nodded. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing with Mako, but we have no idea how that passage twists and turns. Not to mention we have no way of getting ahead of him.”

“Do you have a plan, Kuvira?” Su asked, reforming her boot.

“It might be too generous to call it a plan…I doubt Aiwei expected anyone to find this room, so he’d have less of a reason to take the extra time and put all kinds of turns in the tunnel. Besides, he would know that a straight bore would be the most stable. So if we get every earthbender to start pushing the mountain in on itself…”

“He’d have to surface,” Korra finished. The expectance in her voice made Kuvira’s chest feel tighter, but Su looked unconvinced, and that quickly deflated her.

“There’s so much ground to cover,” her mother said. “Even with every earthbender in the city, that’s an enormous mountain.”

“I—” She bit her lip— “You’re right. It was a stupid idea. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I don’t have a better one,” Korra said, heading back up the stairs.

Rather than leave the Avatar to her own devices, Su and Kuvira went along with her, rounding up every earthbender they passed and sending others to get the rest. They went with the first wave of earthbenders on a tracked truck that plodded over the lowest point between two mountain peaks. Mako and Asami were on their bison far above them, providing overwatch, and Kuvira made hasty introductions between Korra and more of her family. There were her twin brothers Wei and Wing, their brother Huan, and Su had even managed to convince her mother to put her lounging on hold to help.

“I know you,” Korra said to the blind old woman. “Toph.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out. I hear you can bend lava. That’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“Don’t expect any higher compliment,” Kuvira whispered, and Korra smiled briefly. The slight grin looked much better on her than the scowl it replaced.

The bison—Pepper, she remembered—circled overhead, ready to swoop down on any fleeing figures. Korra bounced impatiently from heel to heel while everyone else rushed into position, rolling one of the beads of her mala with her fingers. She would be lying to herself if she thought there wasn’t something deeply inspiring about Korra’s ferocity. Inspiring, attractive—it mixed up in her mind, and she shook her head clear just as Su called out from farther down the line.

“Go!”

Everything around them shook. If she didn’t know any better, Kuvira could have sworn it was an earthquake. They all focused on the mountain, feeling for weak spots in the earth and pushing inward. Pepper darted through the sky, or at least moved as fast as a massive bison could, scanning the land around them.

The tree line on the mountain rumbled, dislodging some of the remaining leaves and even a few entire trees. Small tremors reached Kuvira and threatened her balance, but she dug in, grinding her heel into the dirt. Embarrassed as it made her, earth had never felt quite as familiar and welcoming as metal, and she felt like she was fumbling to find soft spots in the mountainside.

A much larger tremor rocked her and sent her to one knee, but it hadn’t come from the mountain. Beside her, the ground beneath Korra was beginning to break up, making deep fractures appear in a web around her. The largest fissures snaked toward the mountain, where corresponding cracks broke through near the tree line.

“Korra, what are you doing?”

She made no indication that she heard Kuvira. Instead she shuddered, sweat beading up on her forehead while her jaw set in a hard line. Her hands closed into fists, and as they did a brilliant white glow bloomed up from her eyes and the web of lightning scars on her right arm. The mala on her other arm rattled, its dark beads spinning in the air currents she had kicked up.

Kuvira had stopped bending. Everyone had. Far above them, Pepper moved away, back toward the city while the mountain quaked. Korra was yelling, a thousand other voices echoing along with hers. Kuvira backed away without once taking her eyes off Korra, watching in arrested, terrified fascination.

The mountain separated from its base at the tree line. _Separated?_ Kuvira pinched herself to make sure she hadn’t slipped into unconsciousness. Most of the earthbenders broke ranks and ran, but Kuvira was too focused on the power in front of her to even get up.

Korra’s stance shifted, her boot digging in to stabilize her, and the mountain came up higher. Her yelling mingled with the air rushing around her and it became difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. She pulled her arms back, and the mountain followed with her.

It happened so quickly. Korra moved like she was hoisting something onto her shoulder, bringing the mountain up and over them, millions of tons of earth and stone careening through the sky and blocking out the sun like so many wolfbats. Kuvira scrambled to cover herself, but it came down too fast for her.

The ground trembled so violently when the mountain landed nearby that it bounced her up into the air, greatly disorienting her when she came down. Kuvira hit her chin on a rock and nearly bit her tongue, and for a moment the only noise that got through her ringing ears was her own breathing.

“Korra, that was—” She looked over, and fear gripped at her. “Korra?”

The Avatar had collapsed, her body seizing up while bright sprays of blood accompanied every desperate, wheezing cough. Her eyes were glassed over, glowing white each time another seizure wracked her.

“No, no, no…” Kuvira crawled over as fast as she could, cradling Korra in her arms as she hacked up another mouthful of blood. It dribbled down onto Kuvira’s sleeve.

“Medic!” she screamed, falling back into soldiering, into what she knew. _“Get a medic!”_

The day had started off so well.


	20. The Spirit of Competition

She had been hopeful at first, but Lin was quickly learning to hate rehabilitation. The cream they smeared on her burned leg stunk of mint and burned her nose if she inhaled too much, walking was an acute and dizzying pain, and the session with her physical therapist only rooted more deeply in her mind the fact that she was useless as she was. She wanted a stiff drink instead of endless stretches, she wanted to sit at her desk instead of in a tub while the healers worked, and she wanted another visit from Tenzin instead of the occasional rookie drifting in to check on her.

Well, Lin thought, she could want those things all day. All she was getting was the physical therapist guiding her through the motions to help the healing process. She was exhausted. She was upset. But most of all, she was angry. Angry with herself, with the Council, with the miserable Equalists she strangled every night in restless dreams.

“Okay, push back a little against me, Lin.”

The muscles in her calf still ached, but she listened and extended her leg, pressing into her physical therapist’s hand on her foot. She was nice enough, a young Water Tribe girl named Kaede, but Lin despised what she represented. Captivity. Uselessness. Helplessness. The fresh, raw skin that was growing where the burns had been stretched painfully as she moved her leg, like the tips of thousands of knives prodding at her.

“Are we about done with this?”

Kaede gave her a weak smile and shook her head. “You know you just got here. Your leg’s started healing, which is good, but we can’t let it atrophy.”

“Fine.” Lin tried shifting on the bed, but the exposed small of her back had stuck to the sanitary paper in the heat. She knew sweat was trickling through her undershirt, but there was too much pain to care much. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

She put her hands behind her head and stared up at the ceiling while Kaede worked on her leg, absently following her directions when she spoke. The burned leg was the most important, then she moved to the other leg, followed by her arms.

“You’re doing really well, Lin,” Kaede said. “That should do it for today. You’re my last patient, too. If you keep it above the waist, I might be able to get you into the weight room soon.”

“Anything’s better than wasting away in bed, listening to the radio. I’ve heard that Cabbage Corp commercial jingle so much it’s in my dreams.”

“Great. My brother always said your upper body was your best feature.”

She tried cocking an eyebrow, but scowled instead. “How old is he?”

“Um, twenty-two,” Kaede admitted. Lin wondered idly where all these men were when she was younger, but an opening door distracted her. “Hey, this is a private session—oh, Councilor.”

Lin sat up quicker than she intended, pulling her skin away from the sanitary paper with an irritating sting. She almost felt a smile coming on, but it died when she saw it was Bolin. Ikki was beside him, but only for the briefest moment before she bolted into the room, examining all the physical therapy equipment and asking questions to no one in particular. She liked Tenzin’s children insofar as their presence usually meant Tenzin wasn’t far behind, but no one else appeared at the door.

“Councilor,” Lin said. She nodded to Kaede, who quietly slipped out of the room. “Stop by to have a good laugh?”

“We’re all on the same side here, Chief. Business is done for the day, I thought I’d come to see how you were doing.”

“And to give you these!”

Ikki came out of nowhere, bumping into the table and sending an unpleasant jolt through her leg. She held out a small paper bag with no small amount of pride. “Rice cakes, I made them myself! Or, I helped my mom make them…okay, she made them, but it was my idea! She made them especially for you.”

Lin took the bag and glanced inside. Sure enough, there were a half-dozen rice cakes with glazed sugar drizzled over them. After the bland hospital food they smelled delicious. Of course they smelled delicious, she thought with a frown. They were Pema’s parting shot. Another reminder that her domesticity had won out over Lin’s roughness. She crumpled the top of the bag in her hand.

“Do you not like them?” Ikki asked, an uncertain frown creeping over her lips. “I wanted to get something you’d enjoy because you saved my dad.”

“I—”

_I hate your mother because she stole him from me. I love your mother because she makes him happy. I hate what you remind me of, a walking, talking monument to losing him._

“I think they smell great. Thanks, kid.”

Her grin reappeared as she threw herself into a hug, parting only to look at more equipment. Lin took out one rice cake and bit into the side while Bolin came up to her. “That was surprisingly diplomatic of you.”

“You want something?”

“Like I said, I wanted to see how you were doing.”

She waved contemptuously at her burned leg. “About as good as garbage. I can’t walk, I need the wheelchair to get from my bed to the toilet. So to answer the question you’re not asking, Councilor, no, I won’t be returning to duty any time soon. That’s what you wanted to know, isn’t it?”

“I know we don’t always get along, Lin, but I do care. I’ve never forgotten what you did for Mako and me, and you took the time to teach me metalbending. Leading with questions about work seemed untoward, but if you insist, yes, we’re eagerly awaiting your full recovery. Your temporary replacement is…much better as a deputy chief, to put it nicely.”

Lin studied him, but if Bolin was lying, it was hidden behind his politician’s smile. With Mako it was always obvious, as if he wanted to be caught. Bolin…he was sweeter, but still hard in his own way.

“I saw the papers. You and Tenzin didn’t tell me there were other attacks. Other deaths.”

Bolin nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. “They had just brought you out of an induced coma. Tenzin didn’t think it was a good idea to shock your system,” he said, putting a hand on hers. “I agreed. You were more than able to find out for yourself once you were cogent.”

She crossed her arms. “You still should’ve told me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mo—Chief.”

They looked away from each other, letting awkward tension flood in around them. It wasn’t a memory Lin wanted to relive right then. “How’d you get roped into babysitting?” she asked, grasping for another subject. Bolin gave her an exasperated shrug.

“I have no idea. One minute I’m picking up documents on the island, the next I’ve got a teenager in tow and I’m pretty sure I agreed to help clean the temple this weekend. Pema’s very persuasive.”

“Tell me about it.”

It was her best attempt at humor, a bitter joke at her own expense. She got a weak smile from Bolin, who reached into his jacket pocket and produced another small paper bag. “Here, don’t let the doctors see it. Something to wash those rice cakes down with.”

She opened the bag to find a glass flask of kaoliang, her favorite. “Dancing Dragon? This is the good stuff.”

“To your good health, Lin. Don’t rush your recovery. I’ll be by again soon. Ikki, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah! Bye, Aunt Lin! I hope you feel better!” Ikki hugged her once more and followed Bolin back out of the room. “Mom said you were getting me noodles?”

“I am? Uh…okay, I know a good place.”

Ikki latched onto his arm as they disappeared down the hallway, describing in great detail exactly what she wanted for dinner. Lin sat back, made sure no one was on their way into the physical therapy room, and broke the seal on the kaoliang. She took a quick belt of it, shuddered as the warmth spread through her chest, and began easing herself into her wheelchair.

⁂

The waiting was the worst part. She hated hospitals, there was so little to do in them but wait. The harsh lights and the ever-present stench of formaldehyde only reminded her of her own visits and made her back ache terribly. It didn’t matter, not then. Nothing else really mattered right then except the girl lying in the hospital bed, not her dipping eyelids, not the itching bandage on her arm where the needle had stuck her.

Kuvira sat beside Korra’s bed, watching the labored rise and fall of her chest. Bandages covered her body from the neck down, stained in some spots with faded blood, and an intravenous drip snaked into the back of her hand. Kuvira’s hair had fallen out of its braid some time ago, but her hands were too busy rolling the beads of Korra’s mala to fix it.

It was her fault, she knew. It was her fault Korra was lying there, it was her plan that made the Avatar seize up and collapse. Korra was going to hate her when—if—she came to, Mako and Asami would likely feel the same, and Su…she tried not to think about it.

She was shaking, she realized, rocking in her seat so much that its uneven legs rattled on the floor. Kuvira took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly. It didn’t help much.

“You look like you’re about to have a heart attack. This would be the best place for it, I guess.”

Mako stood in the doorway with three cups of tea and a weak grin to match the bags under his eyes. Asami followed him into the room, taking one of the cups when he paused. “Why don’t you get some sleep? All the other earthbenders damn near passed out as soon as they got back to the city.”

“I’m okay.”

He nodded and handed her a cup of tea. “I figured you’d say that.”

“What about you two?” Kuvira asked. “You’ve had just as long a day as me. No reason we all have to be exhausted.”

“I’m used to long hours, it sort of came with the territory in my job,” Mako said. “Besides, if anything happens to her your aunt will find a way to blame me.”

Asami sat on the opposite side of the bed and blew on her tea. “I just want to make sure Korra’s okay.”

That seemed a far cry from the conversation Kuvira heard from their room the night before. Still, if she was concerned about Korra, then that was enough for her.

“Thank you both for your help today,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. “And Pepper, too. You came down fast on Aiwei…all things considered. We’re going to have to redraw the map.”

Mako stirred a bit of sugar into his cup. “Aren’t you glad you ran into the Avatar?”

Kuvira made a noncommittal sound, but couldn’t help the small smile playing over her lips. “Today was interesting, I’ll say that.”

“Hear that, Asami? We’re interesting.”

She didn’t acknowledge him. Kuvira wondered what kind of history there was between them, and then Korra began to stir. It was only a groan at first, a faint expression of discomfort flitting on her face, but Kuvira nearly dropped her tea as she shifted closer to the bed. Mako and Asami watched from the other side, fatigue wearing on all of them. Korra slowly came to, her bright blue eyes fixing on each of them in turn and finally falling on the Lieutenant Governor.

“Welcome back from the brink,” Kuvira said, picking up the mala from her lap and handing it back to Korra. “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone worked me over with a lead pipe.” She licked at her chapped lips. “What happened?”

“You ripped off the top of a mountain and nearly killed yourself doing it,” Asami said. Kuvira nodded.

“First, I have to ask you not to do that again. The mountains are a natural defense for the city. Now, anyway, even with the Avatar state, you overexerted yourself. Once the mountain came down you started seizing. It…it took a bit of a toll on your body.”

“How bad?” Korra asked, looking down at the bandages wrapped all over her.

Kuvira drummed her fingers on her lap. “The healers found a lot of hemorrhaging. You needed a transfusion. And you broke a few ribs, the surgeons had to go in and set them.”

With a grimace of pain, Korra pushed aside some of the bandages on her abdomen, exposing a fresh scar lined with stitches over taut muscle. Kuvira pressed her legs together, and Korra frowned.

“That’s fine.” She put the bandages back and looked at the ceiling. “That’s all I am, anyway. Scar tissue.”

“No, Korra, you’re…that was amazing. And it’s the reason we found Aiwei,” Kuvira said.

She snapped back into focus and threw the thin bed sheet off of her. Korra clambered out of her bed, pulling out her intravenous drip before putting her hand on Kuvira’s shoulder to steady herself. “Hey, what are you doing? You need to rest!”

“I _need_ to find out what he knows,” Korra said in between labored breaths. She clutched at her newest scar as she limped for the door. “I need—argh!”

Three steps from her bed, Korra staggered and collapsed, falling to all fours. She cried out and slammed her fist into the floor, twisting the metal beneath her until Kuvira scooped her up. Pain pricked up in her arm beneath the bandage, but she ignored it.

“You need to rest,” Kuvira repeated, carrying her back to the bed. A few tears rolled down Korra’s cheeks. They were the same height, but Korra felt so small in her arms, so quietly defeated. She wanted to comfort her, but all she could do was lay her back on the sheets and run her hand through Korra’s hair a few times. It was so soft. “We’ll find out what he knows. Get some sleep, okay? The healers will be by again in the morning.”

Korra nodded, smiling weakly when Kuvira wiped a tear from beside her eye. She looked at Mako and Asami. “You’re both welcome to stay at our estate. You too, Korra, once you’re discharged. I’m going there now, if you’d like to follow. Otherwise it’s the big house all the way to the north. Hard to miss.”

She gave Korra a lingering squeeze on her shoulder and left the room, glancing at the hallway clock as she did. Midnight had come and gone, and she had been up for almost twenty-four hours. A fresh bout of fatigue hit her, and her whole body felt heavy. Her exhaustion became rather more acute when Asami followed her out into the corridor.

“What are you doing?” she asked, buttoning up her jacket in preparation for the cool air outside.

“Excuse me?”

“With Korra. I—we have to concentrate on finding the Red Lotus. She doesn’t need this.”

“I’m sorry, do we have some kind of problem?” Kuvira asked, letting her voice drop to a growl. “Because I know I’m not stepping on your toes. You cut that off last night, if I heard correctly. Those walls were very thin.”

Her eyes widened, but she said nothing before Kuvira continued, stepping closer until she could smell Asami’s perfume. Violets. Korra was easily the more attractive of the two of them, but Asami had her own muted, elegant appeal, she had to admit. “You might be having some kind of identity crisis, but I’m not. You should spend your time focusing on that airbending and what your Equalist friends must think of it.”

Asami gritted her teeth. Their intelligence service was right, then. “You don’t know anything about me. And stay away from Korra.”

“I think I’ll leave that up to Korra, Asami. You don’t get to abandon people and then act territorial,” she added, a sharp edge to her voice.

She left, intermittently balling her hands up into fists as Mako emerged from the room. “Well, the Avatar’s alive, that looks like a full day for me. What’s got Asami fuming? I usually do that.”

“I’m sure it’s been a long day for her, too,” Kuvira said. “It’s past time to head home, are you coming with me?”

The tram was empty except for the three of them, with Asami sitting far apart in the corner. Mako nodded off every so often, bumping his head against the glass behind his seat and jostling him back into coherence. Kuvira thought the idea of curling up on the seat was tempting, but the night wasn’t over yet.

“You mentioned my Aunt Lin,” she said when Mako looked alert enough to answer questions. “Do you know her?”

“We’ve crossed paths a few times. Sort of a working relationship.”

Asami scoffed, and Kuvira cocked an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I’m totally wiped. You’ll have to settle for ‘it’s complicated’ for now.”

When they arrived, the light in Su’s office was still on, the lone pinprick in the bank of windows on the front of the estate. Kuvira unlocked the front door and led them inside to the east wing.

“I don’t think the guest rooms have been set up yet and my mother would kill me if I put you in bare rooms,” she said, pulling blankets and pillows out of a linen closet. Kuvira knocked on one of the doors until an annoyed groan answered her. “Huan, I’m putting up Mako in your room for tonight. I promise he won’t touch the sculptures.”

“I told you, just because I like art doesn’t mean—”

“Sleep well.” Kuvira went across the hall with Asami and rapped on another door until a bleary-eyed Opal answered in her nightgown, slumping on the door frame. “Asami, Opal. Opal, Asami. Mind sharing your room tonight?”

“You were there at Aiwei’s house,” Opal said, fighting back a yawn. “Okay, come on in. Just don’t make a ton of noise, I’m a light sleeper.”

When everyone was put in their rooms, Kuvira made her way across the house to Su’s office. She knocked lightly on the door, and poked her head in when she received no reply. “Mom?”

She was asleep at her desk, head resting on a stack of papers and a pen still in her hand. Kuvira went over and nudged her awake, shaking her by the shoulder until she stirred. “Come on, Mom. You can’t keep sleeping like this. The acupuncturist said it’s terrible for your neck. At least use one of the couches.”

“Hmm…what time is it?” Su asked, rubbing her face.

“A little past three. I just got back from the hospital and put Mako and Asami in with Huan and Opal.”

“Good.” She rolled her neck, wincing as a joint popped. “Tenzin called earlier, wanted to know if we felt that ‘earthquake.’ How’s the Avatar?”

“Korra’s fine,” Kuvira said, leading Su over to one of the couches in front of her desk. “Hell-bent on interrogating Aiwei, but fine. I got her to rest instead. The doctors told me she’ll make a full recovery soon.”

“I’m glad.”

The softness of Korra’s hair played over her fingers. Kuvira looked down at her hands and smiled. “So am I. But what _are_ we going to do about Aiwei?”

Su sighed and stood up. “I really don’t know. We’ll have to figure it out in the morning, I can’t think straight. I’m going to bed, you should too. This day’s been too long. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mom. I love you.”

She hugged Kuvira and shuddered against her daughter as she yawned. “I love you, too.”

No matter how many times she heard it, the words never failed to put her at ease. To make her feel like she was wanted. A fresh reminder every time she failed to internalize it. Kuvira nuzzled Su’s shoulder before releasing her, and they left for their rooms.


	21. Remembrances

_I’m hating this, I’m hating this…_

Lin tightened her grip on the parallel bars and pressed forward, alternating between exhaustion in her arms and pain shooting up her leg. Kaede walked beside her, standing ready if she fell, but her presence was less than encouraging. Broken, their sessions screamed at Lin. Useless. Weak. She was getting better, but not as fast as she would have liked. There she was, a grown woman, trying to learn how to walk again while the city fell apart outside.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Bolin slipped inside with his usual nondescript grocery bag. A drink would be a welcome relief, at least, and Bolin himself wasn’t the worst company. He was a more excitable drunk than Lin would have liked, but as long as he kept bringing her liquor she didn’t mind.

“Evening, Councilor,” Kaede said, drawing up some water from a tank nearby and running it over Lin’s leg to keep the skin hydrated. “Let’s do once more down the bars, okay?”

“You can head out, Kaede, I’ll finish on my own.” Lin turned around and prepared to walk the deceptively lengthy path.

“I’m supposed to stay and then help you back to your room.”

“The Councilor won’t mind giving me a hand. Besides, don’t you have your date to get ready for?”

Her cheeks flushed. “If you’re sure…”

She didn’t wait for an answer before ducking out. Bolin set his bag down and went up to the parallel bars. They were a smooth kind of steel, smoother than she liked; more than once her hands threatened to slip. “Good news or bad news?” Bolin asked.

Her first unsteady step sent knives through her leg, flooding up into her abdomen. _There’s a pain I haven’t missed,_ she thought bitterly. “You first.”

“The triads are getting bolder,” he said, moving along with her at a crab snail’s pace. “I can’t say I’m not glad they’re focusing on the Equalists, but if it gets worse we might have to consider more drastic measures.”

“United Forces?”

“Maybe. Your turn.”

“I can’t _walk_ without feeling like someone’s raking coals over my leg, do you think it’s good news or bad news?” The only thing she hated more than thinking about her condition was talking about it. Tears pricked at her eyes, and shame followed with them. A section of the bar under her left hand began to twist. “I’m completely—ah!”

Lin fell.

The carpet tasted terrible, sweat and feet and any number of unpleasant things she preferred not to think about. She pushed up with her hands, coughing and sputtering while Bolin knelt beside her. Her leg burned as it drew across the carpet, and the pain proved too much. She didn’t care. She started to cry. Thick, hot tears dripped down her cheeks as she twisted into a sitting position, and the bars bent away so Bolin could reach her. “You should—you should just get a new police chief.”

“Hey!” Bolin grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “This isn’t you, Lin, get a hold of yourself!”

“I’m useless like this!” she shot back. Lin bit her tongue to stanch the tears, pressing down so hard she worried she would draw blood. “I ruined myself for a man who won’t even check on me!”

“We’re all busy these days,” Bolin said, taking her hand. “You’re not useless, and you’re not ruined, understand? Remember what you told me when I couldn’t get the hang of metalbending? You are not allowed to quit. And I’m your boss, so that’s an order.”

She took a slow, shuddering breath to steady herself and felt Bolin’s arms wrapping around her back and behind her knees. Reluctantly, she leaned in against him and let herself be carried back into her wheelchair. He was awfully strong, but placed her in the seat with finesse before going to retrieve his bag. “Now come on, do you want to be sad Lin or drunk Lin?”

The hallway back to her room was empty, leaving no one to see her blinking away the last of her tears while Bolin walked beside her. At least she could wheel herself around without help. The little bit of autonomy helped keep her sane.

Someone had changed her sheets while she was out, but had left the radio on. That infernal Cabbage Corp jingle rang out, sinking into her head like a spinning drill. She bent the dial until the sound died away, and suddenly Bolin was putting his arms around her again, lifting her out of the wheelchair and over to her bed.

“You don’t need to carry me, you know,” Lin said, linking her hands behind his head all the same.

“I know.”

The sheets were still warm when he set her down. Bolin eased his arms out from under her, but Lin kept her grip on him for a moment longer. Sad, she knew, but it felt good.

“You can let go now, Chief.”

_But this is how Tenzin used to carry me._

“Right. You want to break out those drinks or what?”

Soon enough she had a pleasant buzz going. Tingles flooded out from her chest and into her arms and legs, letting her forget the pain for a little while. She hoped it was from the kaoliang, at any rate. Lin propped herself up against the back of her bed while Bolin brought a chair up beside her, talking about the lighter bits of Council business. She didn’t ask to hear about any more of the Equalist attacks. That could come later. Just then she didn’t want to be a cop. She wanted to be drunk.

“You should’ve seen Izana go crazy,” Bolin said, slurring his words slightly while his fifth drink swished in his hand. “All over a wolfbat! You’d think she believed they could breathe fire the way she dove under the table. She was ready to kiss the janitor who came in and caught it.”

“If I ever get that jumpy, kill me.” Lin watched her drink shimmer under the harsh hospital lights. “How’s Tenzin?”

“His oldest split off from the Avatar’s group and joined the Kyoshi Warriors with her cousin, so I think that’s a load off his mind. That was about two weeks ago. Other than meetings, he’s been staying on the island. He said it was because he had to prepare things for his other daughter’s mastery ceremony, but…”

“But?”

Bolin took a deep breath. “You really want to know?”

“Can’t leave me hanging like that.”

He nodded. “Well, I was watching Ikki the other day—somehow I keep getting roped into that, she lures me in with rice cakes and then follows me around—and she has no filter. Told me Pema reeled him in because of you.”

His words landed like a punch in the gut. The neutral almost-smile on her face dipped into a scowl, and she drew her undamaged leg up in front of her chest. “Figures. She won. She should enjoy her prize.”

“Lin, it’s been a long time, why do you still beat yourself up over this?”

_Because it’s what I do._

She shrugged. “You don’t have things that eat at you? Things where you wonder how much different everything could have been?”

“Well, yeah, but not with girls,” Bolin said, scooting his seat closer to the bed. “Usually more about things that affect the city and the country. It still bothers me that Mei quit over what we did, but with romantic things I just kind of have to…move on, you know?”

“The resilience of youth,” she muttered. “Things haunt you when you get older, kid. All those years I spent with a grudge against my sister and my mother. Tenzin. You and Mako.”

“We get our own spot in Lin Beifong’s List of Regrets?”

His attempt at humor hit a sour note. “You, not so much. You turned out fine, more than fine. Your brother…it keeps me up at night. Why couldn’t he end up more like you?”

“You can’t torture yourself for this, Lin.”

“But it’s _my fault!”_

“It’s not, okay? It’s not. I’m not going to let you drive yourself crazy with guilt.”

⁂

Bolin sunk into the couch, belly still full of noodles. It was so nice and warm in Miss Lin’s house while he watched the frost build up on the windows. Outside it was cold and the wind stung at his cheeks, but it was comfortable inside. He wondered idly when his mother and father were coming back. Still, Miss Lin’s house was really nice, nicer than their apartment. It wouldn’t be so bad to stay there a little longer.

On one of the gigantic easy chairs facing his couch, Mako sat with his legs pulled up in front of him, holding his head in his hands. His eyes were wide, darting around the room like he expected something awful to happen. Bolin wished he would calm down. Listening to the radio wasn’t any fun with his brother panicking nearby.

“What’s wrong, Mako?”

He had lost count of how many times he had asked in the past few days. As far as Bolin was concerned, nothing was wrong. They had been stumbling around the streets ever since their parents disappeared, but now that they were in a warm house with a nice lady who fed them, everything was just fine.

Mako didn’t answer him. Instead he clambered onto his feet and leaned against the back of his chair, looking frantically around the room. He was shaking, Bolin saw. It was warm. Why was he shaking?

“Mako?”

“Be quiet!”

With a pout, Bolin sunk further into the couch. He didn’t have to be so _mean_. Everyone else had been so nice, almost kind of sad-looking, but Mako was his usual self. No, he was worse than his usual self, and Bolin wanted to know why. He just wanted to know if he could help.

“You know Mom says we’re supposed to talk about something if it’s bothering us,” he said sullenly.

“Shut up, shut up…”

His voice was hoarse and crackly, worse than it had been days ago. Mako climbed down from the chair, went over and grabbed Bolin’s hand as he blinked back tears. “Come on. We can’t stay here.”

“What? Why not?”

“We just can’t, now let’s go!”

Bolin jerked his hand out of Mako’s grip. “Cut it out! Miss Lin said we could stay here, and I want to stay! We don’t even know the way home from here, where are we going to go?”

“Get—up!”

Mako swiped at him, a small spurt of fire tracing along with his fingers. Bolin screamed and clutched at his arm, patting madly at the singed skin while Mako wrenched him to his feet and marched him to the door. Tears slipped down his cheeks. “I’m telling Mom,” he whimpered.

⁂

“So blame Mako if you want, but I won’t have you beating yourself up and hindering your recovery.”

Lin finished her drink and took the bottle from her nightstand. She took a long pull from it, set it back down, and grabbed Bolin by the collar to haul him up onto the bed beside her. “Whoa, hey, Mako’s the one that hits on you. No offense, but I like girls my own age—”

“Oh, shut up.”

She scooted aside and put his head in the crook of her shoulder before wrapping him a powerful hug. “You really wanted to stay?”

“I was six,” he said, shifting slightly to position himself away from her chest. “With the other option being living on the street. But yes, I wanted to stay. You were being a lot nicer than Mako.”

Lin held him tight.

⁂

_Two weeks later_

“No, no! There’s no spirit to it! I’ve got to _feel_ it!”

Mako released the pressure on the strings of his erhu and looked at Huan, who was still shaping a piece of his latest sculpture. It was the fourth such interruption in a half hour, and Mako took a deep breath rather than lashing out. He liked Huan, they were able to brood together for hours in satisfying silence, but being chastised without any further instruction was beginning to wear on him. There would be a chance to…work out his frustration if they could get away from everyone later, but until then he was stuck.

“Look, I know I’m not about to go play a concert or anything, but I thought I got most of that last part right,” Mako said, tightening up the tuning on the outer string. “Tutors were kind of hard to come by when I was growing up.”

“All the notes were fine, that’s not the problem. There was no…no emotion to it, it was too clean, too refined! It should bring a tear to your eye!”

He thought about it for a moment, picked up the bow again, and played the last few bars of his song with more vibrato. Huan smiled, an unfamiliar sight to Mako even after a month in Zaofu, and waved his hand, making part of the sculpture curl away from him.

“That’s it, there! Can you feel it? The pain, the sorrow?”

All Mako actually felt were the slight vibrations in his fingers, but he nodded all the same. If anything he thought it sounded worse, wavering and warbling while Huan bent the last bit of metal into place. “There! What do you think?”

“What’s this one, sweetie?”

Su came down the steps to the garden behind the estate, idly twirling a bit of iron above her hand. Mako rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the ground at her feet. She looked so much like Lin, even if they couldn’t act more differently. He was glad, in a way, even if he caught himself missing Lin’s roughness every now and then. He hoped her rehab was going well. Su went up beside Mako and put her hand on the small of his back while they looked at the sculpture.

“It’s supposed to be all the pain and darkness of music,” Huan said, stepping back to survey it with them.

“Don’t you ever want to make something more…cheerful? Maybe reflect some of the positive emotions in the world?”

He gave his mother an affronted look. “Where’s the pathos in ‘cheerful?’ Where’s the crushing weight of locked-away memories thrust into the limelight? Besides, it was Mako’s playing that inspired me.”

“Is that so?” Su asked. “What locked-away memories were you spilling out, I wonder?”

_Dead parents. Ruined relationships._

“I just run the bow over the strings until I find something that sounds good,” he lied.

Su ruffled Huan’s hair, much to his annoyance. “Well, it looks great, honey. You should both be proud. Mako, a word?”

They left the gardens, going by a display of meteorites in a grotto where Opal sat with a book. Nearby Mako could hear the harsh metallic clanging of the game Huan’s younger brothers had come up with. Most of the windows on the back of the house were thrown open to take advantage of the beautiful day, except for the one in Asami’s room, which was shut tight and curtained.

“Did the water heater break?” Mako asked. “Need something warmed up?”

“Lin’s letters never mentioned your sense of humor. She’s not a very jokey person, I guess.”

His face flushed. “I didn’t realize I was so interesting that letters needed to be written.”

“Oh, she talks about you a lot, but that’s not why I pulled you away.” She motioned to Asami’s window. “I think your friend might need some…cheering up. She’s been shut up there in her room for three days now and lots of sake is missing.”

“You understand that I don’t usually have a _positive_ effect on Asami’s mood?” Mako asked. “It’s been a long time since she was even happy to see me. The only person that did more than tolerate me is back on Kyoshi Island.”

Su frowned and put a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t concerned. This kind of thing doesn’t get better on its own. I would try, but I’m swamped with preparations and I think it would mean more coming from you, anyway.”

“Lin either hasn’t told you very much about me, or she’s been lying through her teeth.”

“Neither. I still have every confidence in you.”

She went to speak with Opal while Mako started back toward the house. Even in his wildest dreams as a child, he never imagined staying in such a palatial estate, to say nothing of how kind everyone had been. Being near a close, loving family…it was a sweet kind of pain.

Mako took the back stairs to their part of the guest wing, where Asami’s door was closed tight. He knocked lightly and poked his head in, where the scent of rice wine hit him like a punch in the face. Asami sat at the foot of her bed, running her finger in slow circles around the top of a nearly-empty bottle. He had seen her without her usual hairdo and makeup most days since they left Republic City, but never while looking so miserable.

_Ugh, it smells like a distillery in here…guess I found the sake. What's left of it, anyway._

One of the floorboards under his foot creaked, drawing her attention. “Hey, Mako. Want to get drunk with me?”

“It’s noon and you smell like you’ve already had enough to take down an elephant rhino. I honestly don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified. Either way, you’re done.”

Asami held the bottle up and waved it at him. Mako stepped into the room, took the bottle, and set it on her desk. “Cut that out. How long have you been at this?”

She shrugged. “Hours. Days. Doesn’t really matter. You finish with that silly sculpture?”

“Yeah, and it looks great, not that you’ve seen it,” Mako said, clasping her arm and easing her up until she stood unsteadily, wavering back and forth with a sullen look. He guided her over to the chaise longue beside the desk and set her down, leaving her to nuzzle into the cushion while he opened the curtains. Asami hissed as the light flooded in. “Oh, stop. You’ll forget what daylight looks like at this rate.”

“Did you know the Air Nomads used to ferment figs and peaches, have their bison eat them, and then have drunken flying jousting matches?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that’s not true. Come on, you can’t stay in here all day with all the light blocked out, it’s not healthy.”

“What do you care? You’re off being all buddy-buddy with art boy and Korra’s with _her_ ,” she said, trying to add venom to her slurred words. It had the opposite effect, making her sound comical rather than threatening. Asami reached for the bottle on the desk, but Mako moved it away from her as he sat down, taking a quick swig. It burned all the way down. “That stupid, rough, beautiful rich girl.”

Mako had half a mind to remind Asami that she was attractive and exceedingly wealthy herself, but decided on another direction.

“I hate to shatter your ego—well, that’s not entirely true—but people don’t go catatonic when you break up with them. We do continue having lives outside of our relationships with you. I mean, look at me. We had that awful breakup and I only walked away with one serious injury, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.”

⁂

“Hey Asami—whoa!”

Mako ducked in time to have a plate sing over his head and explode into a dozen pieces on the wall behind him. He peeked up from behind the table and saw his girlfriend grabbing a bowl from the cabinet.

“Did I forget your birthday?” Mako asked, picking up a shard of porcelain. He liked that plate. “Because I can have a million or so flowers here in a minute.”

“You’re a fucking _triad!”_

Oh. Right. He had wondered when that was going to come up. Still, he thought, there was no excuse for using perfectly good flatware as a projectile. A few sparks started swirling around his hand…he tamped them down. Asami hated when he started firebending in front of her. Not that Mako could blame her. It took him years to stop seeing the mugger who killed his parents in every bit of flame around his hands.

“Let’s maybe take a deep breath and stop throwing things? I didn’t show up at your house and start chucking teapots when I found that Equalist mask you left here. I thought—”

The bowl exploded as it hit the table. Her aim was improving, and his ears rang. “I thought we just weren’t going to talk about that stuff!”

Footsteps, getting closer. He hoped she wasn’t going for the knives, they were expensive. Asami came around the table, thankfully bare-handed, and Mako stood up. That proved to be a mistake. Her hand cracked across his face and her nails followed with it, leaving four bright streaks running from his ear to his mouth.

“Ow.”

She wound back to get him again, but a quick sidestep let Mako grab her wrist and hold it over her head. “Stop that!”

He made another mistake by focusing on her free hand instead of her feet. Asami drove her shin up between his legs as hard as she could, and in the sickening, horrifying instant after the contact but before the pain, Mako lost his grip on her wrist. He staggered back as fire spread up through his abdomen, grabbing at the table to keep himself upright. “Low blow,” he mumbled, his head spinning.

“How could you do this, Mako? Those animals killed my mother, they killed your parents!”

“You think I don’t know that?” he asked through a wheeze. “I found the guy…I found the guy who killed my parents. What kind of job prospects do you think some street orphan has?”

“Why don’t we go ask your brother, the Council page?” Asami asked. Mako gritted his teeth.

“Bolin doesn’t have a record. I did all that stuff to keep him out of trouble. I did what I had to do and I’m not going to stand here while you talk down to me for it.”

“You fucking benders,” she muttered.

“And there it is. Us terrible benders, we get every advantage without even trying. I’m sure you’ve gone and cried in every room of your mansion over all the injustice,” Mako spat back.

Asami ran her hands through her hair while he fell backwards into a seat. “I love you, you idiot,” she said, taking a step forward. Mako snapped his legs shut, wincing in pain as he did, but she only ran her hand over his cheek, fingers following the markings she had left. A few tears rolled down her cheeks. “I wanted to tell you that tonight. I wanted to do a lot of things tonight.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Mako gasped out. “I…I love you too, you know that.”

“But I can’t be okay with this. I don’t know what your reasons are, and I don’t want to know.”

“So that’s it, then?”

She dipped down and kissed him, lipstick and tears smudging up on his lips. “Yeah. That’s it, Mako.”

A fresh wave of pain rocked him as Asami strode away and slammed the door behind her.

⁂

“That kick put me out of action for months, I’ll have you know. I couldn’t even…commiserate with myself over our breakup.”

Asami rolled her eyes. “Boo hoo.”

“On the other hand, you are getting better at breakups,” Mako said, passing the sake back to her. “You didn’t attack Korra at all. Maybe next time you’ll give breakup sex a try.”

“Watch it, my kick’s still as good as it ever was. And I didn’t get that much better. That day we all found out she was the Avatar, she was waiting for me at my house. I went at her with a poker before she put a knife in my hands and asked me to kill her.”

“Well, you didn’t, we can call that a marginal improvement.”

“Yeah. Big improvement.” She took a belt of the sake, sat up against the wall, and patted the empty space she left. Mako sat down beside her, letting Asami put her head on his shoulder. “I still love you, you know. Not like that, not anymore. But the way you love a really old friend or that cousin you only see every few months.”

“I’ve got a few cousins like that,” Mako said, taking back the sake. A pleasant warmth was snaking through his arms and legs from his stomach. “Love you too. Can’t think of what I’d be like if you weren’t my best friend. And with friends like you—”

“—who needs enemies,” Asami finished, laughing a little harder than she would have sober.

“Not us, that’s for sure. Oh, and just because it’s going to keep me up at night if I don’t ask, your thing with Korra, that wasn’t because of me, was it?”

Asami hiccupped and snatched the bottle out of his hands. “And you want to talk about _my_ ego…no, Mako, you didn’t turn me off men. That’s not how it works. I like men, I like women. Let that keep you _up_ at night.” She swished around the last of the sake and drained the bottle. “Have you heard from Jinora?”

He raised an eyebrow. Asami hadn’t spoken a word about her the whole month they were in Zaofu. “A few days ago, yeah. Right before she left with the others for their recital in Ba Sing Se. She’s doing well. She asked about you, actually.”

“Wanted to know if I became a nun and got those silly arrow tattoos?”

“More like she wanted to know how you were handling your airbending. I know you’re avoiding it at all costs, so I told her I’d have to get back to her on that.”

“Hmm.” She twirled her wrist in a circular motion, letting the air swirl around her hand until there was a funnel almost the size of her head hovering over her fingers. Mako watched, intrigued. He had seen—and been on the receiving end of—every kind of bending, but there was an odd sort of mysterious grace to airbending that the other forms lacked. Even Korra managed to look somewhat refined when she was airbending. It must have been beautiful when Jinora used it. “Well, there are plenty of other airbenders for her to worry about now.”

“I never asked, how’d your…friends…react to that?”

She began to shake slightly against him. “About as well as you’d expect.”

⁂

Asami couldn’t hold the papers with her trembling hands. _New Airbenders_. _Air Nation Returns_. A dozen other papers had seized upon the story, despite her threats to buy them out and shut them down. Her face was plastered on as many front pages as the Avatar’s. Normally that gave her a small boost of pride. Now it made her consider throwing herself out of her office and onto the streets below.

If the looks she was getting didn’t kill her first, of course. The lobby had been a gauntlet of withering glares, and even her secretary Rei gave her a crestfallen little glance before turning back to her work.

The top latch of the window required some effort to reach, but it unlocked easily and she slid the glass to the side, feeling a cold rush blast through her office. Where everything had been silent, now there was the muted noise of the street with its cars and voices far below, dulled by the roar of the wind. She never realized how terribly alive it seemed, how angry it felt while rushing at her, attacking her. It was a long way down.

Through all that air.

Near the main entrance, there was a throng of reporters trying to work their way inside like they had been all day. At least their security personnel were loyal to their paychecks and not ideology. Asami wondered idly how many of them she could take with her if she landed in the crowd. The thought brought a morbid smile to her lips, and as sickening as it was she knew it was the first real smile she had felt in days.

Panic would set in long before she hit the ground, she knew. Her body would panic, no matter how much her mind wanted to die, to disappear, and force out a gale to break her fall. No way to explain _that_ to dozens of voracious reporters. Didn’t they have anywhere else to be?

“Thinking of doing us all a favor?”

The sharp, gravelly voice made her start and grab at the window frame. She turned around slowly, her heart pounding with adrenaline from almost being frightened off the thirty-sixth floor. Fù was there, standing in the doorway with some of the upper cadre of the Equalists, or at least the parts of it that hadn’t been killed or captured on Air Temple Island. It looked strange to see them all there, bare-faced and in suits rather than uniforms.

“If you’re here to lambast me, I’m afraid I’ve already beaten you to it,” she said dimly. “Me and every person I passed in this building today.”

“No.” Fù held up a newspaper with Korra’s beautiful, forlorn face adorning the front page. “We’re here about these reports of you planning to leave with the Avatar. And we want to know why you did it. The airbending.”

“Why? _Why?”_ Anger threatened to push out her fugue for a moment. “Do you think I planned any of this? Having my warehouse blow up with me inside? Becoming a conduit for airbending? It wasn’t my idea to leave the spirit vines there, if you’ll recall. It wasn’t me that said it was the last place the triads would look.”

His jaw clenched. “And the Avatar?”

“Leaving tomorrow.” She turned back to the window and slid it closed. “I don’t want some anarchist threat hanging over our heads. Now get out of my office.”

“It won’t be _your_ office once you leave. You missed the meeting, but the board appointed me as the interim CEO in your absence.”

 _Still in the city and they’re already digging my grave. Those snakes._ “Of course they did. And the rest of you put him in charge, too?”

There was a deafening silence of assent. “I guess no one gets to call you Lieutenant anymore. Now, while it’s still my office, _get out_.”

With hard, icy glares, the last people Asami thought of as her family turned their backs on her and left. Fù opened his mouth to say something, but roughly shut the door instead. Asami felt her composure wavering, and no sooner had she locked the door than she sunk to the floor beside it and cried.

⁂

“I'm confused, you don't own the company anymore?”

“No, it's still my company, but the board put someone else in charge.”

“Legitimate business is so complicated. Anyway, it’s not like they would have been thrilled with it, you had to know there’d be blowback.”

Asami quietly produced another bottle of sake from behind a pillow on the chaise longue. “I expected a little loyalty. It’s not like I was hiding bloodbending from everyone, I got smacked with powers I never wanted and never asked for.”

Mako was intent on cutting her off, and took the sake out of her reach. “They were loyal. Just not to you.”

She gave him a long, slow nod. “Besides, everything went to hell with them after we left, better to have washed your hands of the whole thing. They were always a pain in our necks, but they weren’t chucking bombs and killing people when you were running the show.”

“Mm.”

“Now come on.” He hopped to his feet and offered Asami his hand. “Can’t stay in here all day. We don’t have to go practice Bagua forms or anything, but at least come outside. I’m sure Baatar has some engineering project you can look over. Plus this room really needs a chance to air out.”

Asami clasped his hand and took a few shaky steps with him to the door. “I have wanted to see that game Wing and Wei made up. Something that makes that much racket has to be exciting.”

⁂

The sharp, reverberating _clang_ of the disc on one of the center posts rang through Korra’s ears as she dove to meet it. She sensed the big hunk of metal before she saw it come screaming around her post, whipping through the air on nothing but momentum. With a twist of her body, she reached out and grabbed the bit of easily malleable thunderbolt iron inside the disc, let it fly just past her, and reversed it.

She smirked as the disc bounced off the posts, but the buzzer went off far too early for her to have made a goal. One of the twins—she still wasn’t sure which—called down from above the field. “Technical foul, holding the disc! Point, Kuvira!”

“These rules don’t make any sense!” Korra shot back, still panting as she wiped the sweat from her brow. “It’s like you’re making them up as you go along!”

“It’s a brand new game, Avatar, it’s bound to have some growing pains,” the other twin said.

“Ordinarily you’d get another foul for arguing with the ref, but that was match point.”

Korra rolled her eyes and climbed out of the field. Mako and Asami sat in the stands trying to decipher the rules until they noticed her. At least they were getting along. Asami gave her a small, subdued wave, which she returned. Small steps, she told herself. Mako turned the rules pamphlet he had been given upside down. “What’s the difference between a point and a power?”

“The referee’s mood, I think,” Korra said.

The buzzer sounded again.

“Game’s over, can’t give me another foul,” she muttered, sticking her tongue out at the twins.

“Well, I thought you were really good out there,” Asami said.

“Oh, uh…thanks.” Korra rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling very flush in the cool afternoon sun. A bead of sweat snaked down her exposed midriff, and she rocked back and forth on her heels for a moment. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

Mako went to argue with Wing and Wei about the ambiguity of some of the rules while Korra disappeared into the locker room. A chill hit her once she was out of the sun, cold and sharp while she picked up her clothes and brought them over to the shower stalls. One of them was already running. All Korra could see of its occupant was a mass of hastily pinned-up black hair, but the soft humming told her who it was. She hesitated, resting a hand over her stomach and all the scars littering her skin. Oh well, she thought. She really needed the shower, anyway.

The shower stalls only came up to about her neck, and Kuvira glanced over as the cool water began to beat down on her shoulders. “Don’t worry about Wei, he’s a stickler with the rules. You played well. Seems like you’re almost totally healed up.”

Korra touched her surgery scar, poking at the slight indentations where the stiches had been. She applied a little pressure to her ribs, feeling only a slight sting rather than the sharp shocks of pain that had plagued her weeks before. “Looks like it. It’ll be good to get back to what I was doing before.”

As much as she tried to pour conviction into the words, they felt hollow. She liked being in Zaofu. She liked feeling like a normal twenty-four year-old woman and not the broken wreck that looked at her in the mirror every night. She liked spending time with Kuvira.

“They’re still working on Aiwei,” Kuvira said. “You don’t want to go to Ba Sing Se without a destination in mind, you could spend years scouring it without results. Most people don’t realize how massive it is.”

“Let’s hope we find out something soon, then.”

Korra splashed some water over her face and shivered. “My mom would drag you back if you left before the celebration tomorrow, anyway.”

The water in Kuvira’s stall cut out, and Korra snuck a sidelong glance as she padded over to the towels. She bit her lip. Kuvira was finely defined muscle all over, like her, but she carried herself with all the grace that Korra lacked. Her back was to Korra, thrusting the long scar running from her shoulder blade to her hips into prominence. There were other, smaller scars on her body, and seeing them so casually on display set Korra at some small ease about her own. At least Kuvira understood.

She wrapped herself up in a towel and unpinned her hair as she turned around, leaving Korra to about-face so fast she overshot and lost her footing. Grabbing at the controls for the faucet proved fruitless, and she only had time to bend some water beneath her to cushion her fall.

“Ow…”

“You okay?”

Korra twisted around just in time to see Kuvira’s head poke over the stall door, her face reddening so fast it looked as if all the blood in her body flooded into her cheeks. A quick pang from one of her healing ribs made her hiss in pain as she tried to cover herself. “Yeah, I slipped.”

“All right…” Kuvira swallowed hard, but held her gaze for a long moment before turning away, examining the tile design on the wall. “I’ll be out here if you need me.”

She smirked in between grimaces of discomfort. _I guess we’re even, then._

Carefully, Korra got back to her feet and bent all the water down the drain. She slipped into her underwear and the long green tunic she had been given, working her arms back and forth until the sleeves fell the way she wanted them. It hung loosely enough to not bother her scar and even covered most of it, and that was fine with her.

“Didn’t break anything else?” Kuvira asked as Korra came back into the changing area. She hung her simple metal necklace around her collar and stood up.

“Nope, I’m durable enough to survive myself.” Korra tapped on her ribs. “Mostly. So, what now? You don’t have to go back to work, do you?”

Kuvira thought for a moment. “No, that should all be done for the weekend. I’m sure my mom will rope us into preparation work if she finds us.”

“We can’t exactly hide out in here all night.”

With a conspiratorial glance at the door, Kuvira reached into her bag and produced a bottle of baijiu. “Why not?”

“Do you just carry around liquor in your bag?” Korra asked, cocking her head. “Really strong liquor?”

She shrugged. “I have a stressful job. Plus someone’s been making off with all the sake lately and this was a birthday present.”

They did not, in fact, hide out in the locker room all night. After the sun had set and nearly a third of the baijiu was gone, they snuck back to the house through the garden, almost falling over one another as they critiqued one of Huan’s new sculptures.

“What is it?” Korra asked, knocking on the side. “A big, busted needle?”

“It’s supposed to be music, I think…or something. Who knows with him.”

Korra knocked on it more insistently, tipping the whole structure on its side and sending them running. After sneaking past a sleeping Opal and Baatar Sr. in the living room for reasons neither of them fully understood, they found themselves in Kuvira’s room. It was nestled in a corner of the east wing beside her parents’ suite, with a small balcony that overlooked the city to the south. Korra flopped down on the couch inside, curling up and relaxing against one of the arms to make room for Kuvira.

“Soft,” Korra said, letting her cheek rest on one of the back cushions. Kuvira sat down beside her, some of her grace gone with her sobriety. “So, um…”

Kuvira pricked up, leaning toward Korra. A smile crept across her lips. “Yes?”

“How’d you get that scar on your back?”

Her expression dropped somewhat, but she turned around and pulled up her tunic so Korra could see her back. Korra traced the scar with her fingers, making Kuvira inhale sharply as she reached the bottom. “I was wondering when you’d ask about that.”

Korra offered her the baijiu, and she took a short drink before turning to face Korra and passing it back. “I was a sergeant in the army before the queen defunded it, in the military police. We kept hearing reports of units getting brand-new equipment that ran down so fast it was like it had never been replaced.”

“Was it new equipment?” Korra asked. Her thoughts were hazy and she was rather focused on the movements of Kuvira’s lips, but she kept up with the story.

“It was, at least on paper. This was tens of millions of yuans worth of armor and weapons, so there was a huge paper trail to follow. My superior didn’t think it was anything worth following up on, but we had enough latitude that we could conduct our own investigations. Manufacturing, transport, base quartermasters…everything checked out. Meanwhile more equipment kept failing.”

She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No one could prove what happened to all the old stuff. We were told it was destroyed, but we never saw any record of that. There was always some reason they couldn’t produce anything. Some news places picked up the story and they finally had us open an official investigation. It didn’t help, we kept getting blocked off by the officers who were in charge of the equipment turnover. One of my corporals and I went to a base outside Gaoling, it was the main supply depot for the southern Earth Kingdom.”

Kuvira paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek until Korra set her scarred hand lightly on her leg. “You don’t have to keep going.”

“It’s okay. Like I said, we went to Gaoling. The base commander strung us along for most of the day. We couldn’t get an actual answer to any of our questions, and the story he gave us didn’t make any sense. First they were going to send things off to be destroyed, then other bases were going to send things to them, just a lot of inconsistencies. Finally we decided to call it a day.”

“What happened with the new equipment?”

“I don’t think it ever existed.” Kuvira began tugging on her braid, hands clumsily falling over her hair and pulling it loose. “We went to leave that night, and I—I turned back to signal the guard at the gate while my corporal went to start our truck.”

She kept a straight face, but what tears she couldn’t bite back rolled silently down her face. “It was dark, I remember it was dark, and then…everything lit up. I could see the car park as if it was daytime for a second. This wave of heat hit me, I went deaf, and then next thing I knew I was in the hospital. The windshield from our truck hit me in the back,” she said as she began to shake, pointing over her shoulder to where the scar began. “And then it shattered. Mom told me they were picking pieces out of my skin for two days. By the time I got out of rehab the military had already been gutted, and my partner died because I couldn’t leave well enough alone.”

Korra opened her mouth to reply, but the words got lost on the way to her mouth. Instead she put her hand out and pulled Kuvira closer, head swimming. She let Kuvira rest against her, still trembling, and slowly ran her hand over her back while tears dripped down on her arm. Her thoughts were hazy, and Korra nodded off some time after Kuvira, held tightly against her.


	22. Night of a Thousand Stars

Mako had a fairly good idea about who had tipped over Huan’s sculpture the night before, but confronting the Avatar and the second-most powerful person in the province seemed like a bad idea to him. Instead he contented himself with convincing Huan it was a freak gust of wind and suggesting ideas for a new project.

He wandered about the estate grounds, drifting through a haze of expectant inertia, when he found himself in a small section of the garden half-hidden by a retaining wall. Zaofu was too close to the equator for winter to count for much, and neat little rows of flowers bloomed up at him in an artful blend of reds and blues and yellows. Su was kneeling down in front of one row with several flowers still in pots beside her, slowly transplanting them with earthbending rather than a trowel.

“I’m impressed, most people don’t even know this part of the garden exists,” she said, keeping her focus on arranging the leaves of a small peony. Right, Mako remembered, she probably noticed him through the ground long before he knew where he was going. “Were you looking for me?”

“No, just taking a walk, everyone else has something to do for that party tonight.”

“Almost everyone.” She patted the empty space next to her. “Here, why don’t you give me a hand? I know you can’t exactly extort a bunch of orchids, but it’s very calming.”

His eyes widened, and she finally looked up at him until he knelt down beside her. “I guess Lin really wasn’t lying in those letters,” Mako said, taking up an unused trowel and digging where Su pointed. “You’re being awfully casual about it.”

“My sister isn’t the only one who has experience with triads, you know. I fell in with some bad people when I was younger, too. Watch your hands.” She finished aerating an orchid and nestled it in the hole he dug. “It’s strange. So many of her letters read like a police report, all clipped and businesslike, but when she wrote about you…so much emotion dripped through the page. I tried asking once or twice why she spent so much time writing about some kid who wouldn’t stop hitting on her—”

Mako felt his cheeks redden.

“—but she always ignored me. I hope you understand that I couldn’t pass up the chance to get the story from the other side.”

“It’s pretty complicated.”

“We’ve got a few hours before the festivities start,” she said, sitting back. “Try me.”

“You’re really not going to quit, are you?”

“Lin had you built up as this big, bad triad boss, and you show up as a snarky kid who really doesn’t seem that bad. Either things have changed a lot since I ran with the Terra Triad, or I’m missing a piece of the puzzle.”

Mako smoothed over a bit of dirt around the base of the orchid’s stem. “Well, to start, the Terra Triad doesn’t exist anymore. We absorbed them, along with the others. There’s one triad now, the one I was in charge of. It was partly a power thing, partly to put a single force against the Equalists because the police couldn’t do a thing to them. And they ended up crippling themselves anyway, killing the one person that made them more than a bunch of idiots in masks with fancy toys.”

“I could’ve asked Asami if I wanted that part of the story,” Su said, twisting some metal on her bracelet into a helix. “I want to know about you. I want to know why every last thing you do is so personal to Lin.”

“Disappointment, I guess.” Mako stood up and wiped some dirt from his pants. “I know I’d be disappointed if someone kept screwing up despite my best efforts. And even after all the grief we’ve given each other it’s not, it’s not…excuse me.”

He wanted to tell her, he wanted to tell _someone_ , he wanted to let out some of the guilt building up inside and threatening to burst. Instead he walked away, blaming the moisture in his eyes on the wind and ignoring Su’s requests for him not to leave. The garden was otherwise empty, as was the small earthen grotto between it and the house. Asami was off with Opal putting the finishing touches on their dresses, and he had no idea where Korra and Kuvira were.

His room was as quiet a spot as any. Mako fell onto the bed, turning over to stare at the canopy, and pulled over the phone from the nightstand. He took the handset off its cradle, but dropped it back into place. There was no one he wanted to talk to. He didn’t like crying, it always seemed like pointless emotional masturbation to him, but he let the tears trickle down toward the bed sheets all the same.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unsure of who he was addressing.

⁂

“No, I know what you mean, but I don’t have a lot of accessories that go well with red outfits. Green is kind of our thing.”

Asami nodded as she looked through Opal’s jewelry box, picking up silver bangles and thin platinum necklaces. She held a glittering choker up to her neck, but it clashed too much with the deep scarlet of her dress. Her hope of finding something in gold was waning rapidly, but there was a great deal of jewelry to go through.

“I did notice the green theme,” Asami said with a weak smile.

“We can go to the shop if you want.” Opal paused to reach over her shoulder and grab an earring. “Oh, the backing twisted up again.”

She sat beside Asami and took a pair of needle nose pliers from her desk, slowly straightening out the backing on the earring. Asami watched her with her tongue stuck out, working the metal back into its proper shape manually where her siblings might have simply bent it into place.

“That must get kind of annoying, huh?” Asami asked. Opal set the pliers down and tried the earring. It slid smoothly into place.

“Hmm? Oh, the metalbending. I don’t really think about it.” She found the earring’s twin and set them aside. “I mean, Dad and Baatar can’t bend either, so it’s not like I’m the only one. And we’re the smart ones anyway.”

Opal gave her a chipper little grin and shrugged. “Besides, I don’t like dirt and dust that much. I think being an airbender would be a lot cooler, soaring around and everything. You think it’s cool, right?”

Her fingers twitched, air rustling the fabric in her lap while a tingling ran up her arm and into her chest. Opal gasped and watched her, almost bouncing in her seat with excitement.

“I don’t really think about it, either.”

“Fair enough. Still, I wish I had been in Republic City when all those people ended up getting airbending,” Opal said, standing up and taking Asami’s hand. “Come on, I’m sure there’s a store around here that sells gold jewelry.”

They changed and went into the city, taking the tram between the residential and commercial domes to look around the high-end boutiques. Opal seemed drawn to the silver, and even though Asami thought she had quite enough of it already, she left her to her own devices while she picked out a few things that would go better with her dress.

With several hours between them and the party, Opal didn’t seem ready to return home, and instead led Asami off to get their hair and makeup professionally done. She made a small show of resistance as her host checked the tram timetables, but inwardly she was glad. It would be nice to look and feel like her old self. Her hair was a mess of knots after three days shut up in her room, and what makeup she had in her bag wouldn’t match her outfit.

“See, isn’t this nice?” Opal asked from the adjacent salon chair while their hair dried. Asami nodded and flicked through her magazine, blowing the pages around for Opal’s amusement. “I’m glad you’re here. Kuvira doesn’t ever like doing this stuff with me. She won’t even borrow the jewelry I tell her would look good on her! It’s like she thinks she’s still a soldier and has to stay within regulations.”

A pit settled in her stomach, confusing and infuriating all at once. She had managed to avoid Kuvira all month for the most part, as well as she could while they were sharing a house. Her interest was so painfully obvious that even Mako was aware of it, and Korra made no signs of disliking the attention. Asami wanted Korra to be happy, she had been through enough hell in her life to deserve that. She only wished it involved her more. They would occasionally cross paths in the hall, tension thick in the air between them, and Asami would be torn between wanting to tell her off and agonizing over how much she reminded her of Korra. She hated that, how effortlessly similar they seemed. She hated the quick, casual touches they shared, hated the quiet look of self-assurance Kuvira always had.

She hated the way Kuvira's face would intrude on her thoughts of Korra and make her come harder.

“Really? Your sister seems to have a knack for snatching things up,” Asami said, her voice dry. Opal shifted uneasily in her chair and twiddled her thumbs. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be dragging you into my problems.”

“What exactly _is_ the problem?” she asked apprehensively. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Relationship issues. And Korra.”

Opal cocked her head, threatening to send her hair off-balance. “What’s the Avatar got to do with—oh. _Oh_ ,” she mumbled as her discomfort grew. “I might regret asking this, but I don’t understand and I’m a naturally curious person, so what happened?”

“I sort of…broke up with Korra while we were on Kyoshi Island and now Kuvira is really obviously interested in her,” Asami said, speaking so fast she nearly stumbled over the words. “And Korra’s not exactly uninterested, either.”

She fixed a lock of hair that fell down between her eyebrows. “It doesn’t sound like anyone did anything _wrong_ —”

“But I didn’t end things because I don’t like Korra, I do, the airbending was just too much to deal with then.”

“And now?”

Asami set the magazine down. “It’s not as big a deal as I thought it would be. And I’m scared—I’m terrified—that I ruined my chance with her.”

Some of her hair kept falling out of place, no matter how insistently Opal set it back. “And I thought relationships with guys were complicated. I guess they still are, if you’re Huan.”

Trying as she was not to cry and ruin the makeup that had been so carefully applied, Asami almost snorted with laughter. “I knew it, no one willingly spends that much time around Mako unless they want something.”

“You guys do.”

“He’s become surprisingly tolerable,” she admitted.

“So what are you going to do about all this with Korra?” Opal asked. Asami picked up the necklace she had bought and let it fall across her fingers.

“That’s still a work in progress.”

⁂

The wind whipping through her hair made her feel so very alive as she pursued relentlessly over the Zaofu skyline, shooting coils from her hip and forcing them taut to carry her across the rooftops like stilts. All of the city stretched around her in easy view, metal glittering in the low afternoon sun on each and every surface. Cool air blew over her exposed arm, providing a pleasant chill to contrast with the warmth of her armor. The scar there still ached in her downtime, but Korra was learning to live with the pain.

She fired a coil to wrap around an airship mooring beneath her, providing enough leverage to catch up to Kuvira, or so she thought. As she arced through the air, her shadow gave her away, and Kuvira dove below the skyline. Korra heard the _whip_ of her coil latching onto an overhang on the building in front of her, using the momentum to propel herself back up and well past Korra.

“Hey!” she yelled into the wind. She thought she saw Kuvira glance back for an instant, but then she was gone again, working her way over a tower in a powerful vault. Rather than throw her other wire, Korra came down on the roof, coiled herself up, and launched with as much air behind her as she could call up. She rocketed above the city, looking down at the different districts in the moment where she hung before coming back down. All the domes seemed so small, so fragile nestled in the mountains beneath the bright, clear sky.

Quickly, so quickly it made her stomach turn, she began to descend, and Korra had to push a massive blast of fire out from her feet to break her fall. A flock of birds scattered at the heat, and she looked guiltily at the scorch mark marring the roof before leaping off the side. With a thrust of her arm, the wire on her hip shot out and snared around an exposed bit of railing on the next building. The spool _whirred_ as she reeled up, releasing her hold on the metal when she had built up enough momentum to throw herself over the side.

Korra landed on the roof with a _thud_ and rolled to break her fall, only to wind up in shadow. Begrudgingly, she glanced up at Kuvira, sitting on a vent with a thin sheen of sweat on her face and neck. She smirked and hopped down.

“What took you so long?”

“You dropped below the skyline,” Korra said as she got up, bringing them to eye level. “I thought we were keeping above it.”

“I missed my mark and had to recover.” She gave her an innocent shrug. “I thought we weren’t firebending, either.”

Her smirk turned into a grin as she took a step closer to Korra. Heat radiated off both of them, partly from their armor. The unspoken challenge blazed in Kuvira’s eyes, inching toward hers, drifting so close Korra could see a little bead of sweat snaking down beside her soft, pale lips.

“It wouldn’t have been very sporting to race against a splat on a roof,” Korra said.

“I guess not.”

Kuvira’s legs bumped against hers, a muted pressure beneath the tight weave of her armor. More heat flared up, making Korra drop her gaze and turn her attention to the event hall several blocks over. “They’ll be starting soon. Should we get ready?”

“Race you back,” Kuvira said, playfully smacking her hip.

Their competition became somewhat less exciting when the skyline dropped off as they neared the residential district, leaving them to throw themselves down the street with their wires. After the spools became ensnarled and they both came down hard on the sidewalk, they decided to put the race off until another day. Instead they took the tram back to the house, comparing cuts and scrapes before Korra healed them.

“No, that one was from yesterday,” Kuvira said, pointing out the raw skin on Korra’s shoulder. “When you made that ridiculous diving save in the last power disc match.”

“If it’s ridiculous but it works, it’s not ridiculous.”

Once she had washed the sweat and grit away, Korra brought her dress, still zipped up in its protective sleeve, down the hall to Kuvira’s room. She could hear the shower still going, and she waited outside, toying with the metal frame of one of Huan’s paintings while she did.

Opal’s door opened and Asami stepped out, her gown shimmering under the hall light. Light red lace on her sleeves wove into the deep crimson silk flowing past her knees, where elaborate straps snaked down and secured her heels. A pair of gold bangles and a thin matching necklace dotted with rubies caught the light and contrasted sharply with her sleek flow of long, black hair.

Korra forgot herself for a moment, only snapping back to her senses when Opal bumped her foot on the door frame following Asami out, nearly tripping over her own gown. “I…wow, you look great,” Korra said, feeling a sudden flash of ungainliness when she saw how they carried themselves. She stepped in front of her still-concealed dress, worrying how plain it would seem in comparison.

“Thanks.” Opal handed Asami her clutch and she resisted the urge to run her hand through her hair. “Are you heading down there with us? We can wait for you.”

“No, we’ll catch up with you, I still have a whole lot of fabric to figure out,” Korra said, motioning to the garment hanging behind her. The shower cut off.

Her expression dropped. “All right.”

They walked off, leaving Korra to take her dress and shoes out of their bag and hold them up. Su had gotten her an azure cheongsam that reached down to her ankles with light silver silk around the edges. It was sleeveless, Korra’s only request. She was going to learn to carry her scars if it killed her. The seamstress substituted the usual floral pattern running down the side for a design that resembled fire from one angle and water from another. For shoes she opted for simple, comfortable silver flats after admitting she had no experience with heels.

Kuvira poked her head out of the bathroom, hair pinned up once more. “Dress looks great. Can’t wait to see what it looks like on you. Go on in, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Carefully, Korra bumped her head against the wall to calm herself down and took her things into Kuvira’s room. It looked much the same as it had when she stumbled out that morning, but more details stuck out to her without any baijiu clouding her thoughts. The room was large, but the furnishing austere, as if transplanted from a barracks. Her bed sheets were neat, without a crease to be found, and the couch’s pillows had been smoothed out, leaving no trace of the indentations they left from falling asleep there. The desk by the far window was clear of everything but three small paperweights near the back: a glass block, a bar of platinum, and a wooden cube, finely cut and varnished. Her dress lay draped over the desk chair in its protective sleeve. Apart from the paperweights, the only decoration in the room was a ceremonial military miaodao in a glass case on top of her dresser. Korra hung her dress on the edge of the wardrobe and examined it more closely.

“The edge is blunted, it’s no good in a fight. Balance is terrible, too.”

She turned and saw Kuvira nodding toward the miaodao, loose hair spilling over her bathrobe. The belt was undone and hanging loosely at her sides, leaving only her hand on the lapels to keep it from falling open. Korra caught her eye after lingering on the robe for several moments, and motioned to the paperweights. “What are these for?”

Kuvira padded over and picked up the platinum. “Things that can’t be bent. Yet.”

“You can’t bend platinum, everyone knows that. Even I can’t do it.”

“Seventy-seven years ago everyone knew you couldn’t bend metal, either. And then my grandmother did it,” Kuvira said, handing the block to her. “Are you so sure it can’t be done?”

It was cool in her hand, with a comforting weight unlike the steel on her armor. Korra tried to reach into it, into the underlying lattices that metalbending depended on, but she was unable to get a grip on it. If anything it seemed less like metal and more like water, with a disquieting stillness as it sat defiantly in her palm.

“Maybe another time,” she said, setting it down between the glass and the wood. Kuvira nodded and set her dress at the foot of her bed, sitting down beside it to braid her hair. Her fingers worked quickly, ever aware of the event hall gleaming through the twilight outside her window, and tied off the braid with a small silver clasp. Korra turned pointedly away as Kuvira stood up, and all she could hear over the blood pounding in her ears was the sound of the bathrobe hitting the floor.

Taking care not to damage the fabric, Korra lifted her dress by the bits of silver in the embroidery and eased it up onto her shoulders, fastening it and smoothing out the sides before stepping into her flats. She twisted her hair into a low bun, stuck in a decorative pin to keep it in place, and she was ready.

“You clean up well, Korra.”

Kuvira had opted for a high-collared cheongsam of dark green silk with white gold embroidery that cut off just above the knee and a pair of black satin gloves that went almost up to her shoulders. The slight bit of eyeliner she wore, identical to her mother’s, stood in sharp contrast to the skin around it, and the admiring gaze on Korra. Her cheeks flushed.

“Yeah…you too. The green is nice.”

“If you want earrings, you’ll have to raid Opal’s room,” Kuvira said, deciding against a simple silver choker.

“They’re not pierced, actually,” Korra mumbled back, rolling one earlobe between her thumb and finger. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Kuvira offered her arm, and Korra linked her own through it. “Let’s go pretend everything’s fine and there aren’t crazy anarchists running around.”

Even the tram they took to the main dome had been bedecked with multicolored garlands to commemorate the founding of Zaofu, as had all the streetlights. The guards whose schedules put them on shift during the festivities looked forlornly at the partygoers, and Kuvira spared an apologetic glance for one of her friends who had been pressed into being a doorman.

All of Su’s meticulous planning came to fruition when they walked into the event hall. Large round tables covered in bright white cloth stretched back to the far wall of the massive room. Four rows of crystal chandeliers scattered countless tiny sunbursts over the room and guests. Flowing, expertly wrought decoration lined the walls, catching the light on all the myriad surfaces and metals that blended into the installment. People moved about the room and formed a sea of colors with their clothing while a band to one side warmed up in front of an empty dance floor.

Korra paused for a moment to process it all until Kuvira took her hand and led her to their table with her siblings, where Asami was trying to get Opal not to listen to a story Mako was telling about them.

“That is _not_ how it happened,” Asami insisted as they sat down. Mako rolled his eyes as she looked at Korra’s dress and gave her an approving nod.

“Well, that’s how I remember it. Maybe if you hadn’t hit me in the head so hard afterward I’d have a better recollection.”

Mako made an exaggerated show of rubbing the back of his head while Su took her seat on the other side of the table in all her finery. Some of her jewelry caught almost as much light as the chandeliers above them, and Opal cocked an eyebrow. “Was the diadem really necessary, Mom?”

“Oh, we only do this once a year, why not do it to the nines?” she asked, inching her plate into alignment with its neighbors. “Besides, I seem to remember you asking to borrow it last week…”

She blushed and sank in her seat while more guests drifted in. Even Toph deigned to make a brief appearance after dinner started, mentioning how nice all the decorations looked before walking off and laughing while her daughter fumed. Baatar Sr. took her outside for a few minutes, leaving their children and guests to their own devices as the first course was cleared away and the band opened up with a slow waltz. Opal pulled Mako onto the dance floor, earning him smirks from Korra and Asami until he vanished in the crowd.

“Would you like to dance?” Kuvira asked, laying a gloved hand softly over Korra’s fingers.

“Two women dancing?”

“Who’s going to object?”

There was a not-so-hidden challenge in her words as her gaze slipped past Korra, and rather than risk any unpleasantness Korra turned her hand over, clasped Kuvira’s, and stood up. It wouldn’t be such a terrible thing, she thought, until she remembered that she never learned how to dance. A combat waterbending form was the closest equivalent she could draw on, and that seemed like it would be rather out of place. Her chest felt flush beneath her dress, not helped by the slowly growing number of gazes she felt on her.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted in a whisper. Kuvira put one of Korra’s hands on her shoulder, brought the other out to their side, and settled her free hand on Korra’s hip with a squeeze.

“Just watch my feet. I’ll go slowly.”

Kuvira nudged one of Korra’s feet with her own, moving it into place before drawing back the other. Korra watched, and then followed an instant later. “And a quarter turn this way. That’s all it is.”

The satin of Kuvira’s gloves moved smoothly against her hand as their fingers laced up. At least the burning in her ears blocked out any discomfort from the scar tissue on her arm. A new part of the song picked up, slightly faster than the overture, and Kuvira increased their pace while telegraphing her movements enough for Korra to follow. When they had finished another half-turn, she saw Su and her husband behind them while Asami had paired off with Huan.

“See? You’re a natural.”

She shook her head clear and looked back at Kuvira, wearing her sage little smile that made her look like she knew something Korra didn’t. The hand on her hip drifted down to the side of her thigh, warm through all the layers of fabric. Korra shivered and tried to quickly catch up to the turn Kuvira led her into.

“Light on my feet, that’s all.”

After a few minutes, the song ended, and they separated with small bows to one another. The motion all over the dance floor stilled, and Korra would have liked to sit down and deal with the lightness in her stomach if the band hadn’t moved into another number. Kuvira danced with her brothers, as did Korra when they freed up. Wing stepped on her toes and Huan seemed rather uninterested, but Wei and Baatar Jr. were more attentive, and even Mako was surprisingly competent when he found himself pushed into the rotation after he finished a dance with Huan.

“You’re really good at this.”

She let Mako dip her back, oddly at ease in his grip. “Well, dancing was a required skill to get into the triads,” he said, bringing her back up. “Asami taught me when we were dating. There are an awful lot of galas and formal events when your brother’s a politician, and I’ve never done things in half-measures.”

He took her hand and put her in a quick twirl before pulling her securely back into place. Korra had to admit Mako had a paradoxical knack for making people feel safe. Jinora had been right about that much. “I can see that. Okay, I think I’m about all danced out here.”

With a thunderous crescendo, the band finished their song, and right on cue an army of caterers arrived with the next course of dinner. The scent of poached turbot made her realize how hungry all the dancing had made her, and she had to resist tearing into her plate when she sat down. When she had hunted down the last bit of rice, Korra let Su steer her through the room like her father had done, introducing her to people from other parts of the province who had come for the celebration. She had a full stomach, and so she bore it with good grace, made even easier by the knowledge that there was no speech looming ahead in the evening. Not for her, at least. Su seemed to draw her energy from the address she was to give the partygoers.

“That should do it for now,” Su said, patting Korra on the shoulder. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Asami was exasperatedly recounting to Opal the actual version of events that Mako had distorted earlier when she returned to their table, fighting interjections from him by puffing air at his face every time he tried to interrupt her.

The small display of airbending seemed to delight Opal more than the story, and even Korra had to smile at it. At least she wasn’t looking in disgust at her own hands when a gust rushed out anymore. It was a rough kind of airbending, hybridized with the quick, precise jabs of her particular chi blocking form, but it was still a marked improvement. Korra had traced out a rough Bagua circle in Su’s training ground for herself weeks ago, and more than once she had seen Asami studying the figures etched into the ground.

Her nerves were on edge, considering the result of the last gala she attended, but there were no attacks, no intrusions as the night wound down. Su made her speech with gusto, and though Korra thought she liked to hear herself talk a bit too much, the story she spun about founding Zaofu was interesting enough for Korra to forget the anxiety prickling at her. Her hand balled up into a fist and opened back up constantly until Kuvira put her hand over it without a word, still watching her mother speak. She took a slow, deep breath.

Dessert eventually came, tea and lotus seed paste that had been painstakingly worked into the shape of a Zaofu dome. It seemed like quite the extravagance for something they were going to break apart and eat, but Korra enjoyed it all the same after admiring the craftsmanship. They were in the host’s party, obligated to stay as the evening wound down and the hall began to clear out, but Korra felt no rush to leave. As it got later and more people left, everything began to feel much quieter as they drank and talked. The band shifted to a more relaxed, lounging pace, and Kuvira shrank in her seat as Su’s eyes lit up.

“Kuvira…”

“No, Mom.”

“Oh, one song,” Su said, almost rocking in her seat and bumping against her husband. “You have such a lovely voice.”

“Dad?”

Baatar Sr. only shrugged apologetically, unable to deter his wife’s energy. Kuvira sighed, and Korra looked curiously at her. “Is that an order, Governor?”

“Only if you won’t do it because I asked nicely.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, drew her hand away from Korra, and stood up. The silk of her dress shimmered under the lights as she hopped up onto the stage. After a moment, she looked back at their table and whispered something to the band leader. Their music faded out for a moment as they retuned, running through a few bars, and Kuvira tapped her microphone a few times to test the feedback. Su brought her husband back onto the dance floor, and Asami halfheartedly accepted an invitation from Baatar Jr. as the music swelled and Kuvira locked her gaze on Korra.

 _When I look in your eyes, I see the wisdom of the world in your eyes_  
_I see the sadness of a thousand goodbyes_  
_When I look in your eyes_

Her heart jumped, sending a fresh flush across her skin. Kuvira grinned as she paused, keeping time by tapping her foot. Su and her husband swayed while the dance floor filled up again.

 _And it is no surprise to see the softness of the moon in your eyes_  
_The gentle sparkle of the stars in your eyes_  
_When I look in your eyes_

The champagne hadn’t affected Kuvira as much as the baijiu the night before, and she moved with all of her usual grace without actually stepping anywhere at all. Her hips rocked in time with the beat, and her shoulders worked in counterpoint as she moved the microphone from side to side between verses.

 _In your eyes, I see the deepness of the sea_  
_I see the deepness of the love_  
_The love I feel you feel for me_

Baatar Jr. suppressed a yelp as Asami stepped on his foot.

 _Autumn comes, summer dies_  
_I see the passing of the years in your eyes_  
_And when we part there’ll be no tears, no goodbyes_  
_I’ll just look into your eyes_

Korra’s thoughts were hazy. The back of her neck burned, but the heat refused to stay put, drifting down to her chest and stomach before settling between her legs. She shifted in her seat, chewing on her lip and fighting to keep her breathing even.

 _Those eyes, so wise_  
_So warm, so real_  
_How I love the world your eyes reveal_

The music faded out against the applause from the guests who remained. Mako smiled to himself and sipped his tea. “Subtle.”

Kuvira bowed and slipped off the stage before she could be pressed into another song. The band continued where they had left off with slower numbers, and when Kuvira returned to the table Korra saw a blush breaking through her makeup. “I think I’m going to call it a night before my mother gets any more ideas,” she said, her unspoken invitation indicated by the hand she offered to Korra.

Her hesitation came mostly from only just getting feeling back in her legs after having them pressed together. Kuvira led them quietly back to the tram, and they sat in silence as the car sped back to the residential dome. It was empty apart from them, and Korra wrung her hands as it glided over the rails. Her whole body felt fuzzy, anticipation and fatigue fighting inside her.

Entirely too soon they were walking into the house. Korra stepped out of her shoes somewhere in the hall and left them behind as they went into Kuvira’s room, still quiet, still austere. Her clothes were in a pile by the desk where she left them, but she went instead to the balcony while Kuvira undid the straps on her flats.

“They couldn’t pick a better night for this,” Korra said, leaning on the balustrade as Kuvira joined her. Soft lights strung along the streets below made the metal buildings gleam before fading up and into the inky blackness of the night, where countless stars glittered. Kuvira’s bare hand brushed on hers, and Korra quivered.

“My mother does know how to throw a party, I’ll give her that.”

She pushed herself away from the balcony and turned to Kuvira, offering one hand in an exaggerated flourish. “Dance with me.”

“I thought you were all danced out,” Kuvira said, but took it all the same. She pulled Korra close, leaving only a few inches between them, and put Korra’s hands on her shoulders before grabbing Korra’s waist, firm and warm beneath the silk of her dress.

“This has all been so perfect. I don’t want it to end.”

“I know the feeling.”

They swayed softly, about all Korra could manage, while Kuvira led and she followed, glancing down at their feet every so often to make sure she had the right movements. Neither of them knew how long they stayed there, moving gently in a circle while the lights below burned down. Korra felt her eyelids growing heavy when she spoke again.

“You sing beautifully,” she murmured, closing some of the distance between them.

“I can, with the right inspiration.”

“Oh?” Korra asked, slipping her hands down to Kuvira’s sides and laying her head on her shoulder. It was dangerous territory, she knew. She didn’t care. She was so warm, so close, and Korra felt her tapping out a slow beat on her hip.

 _I’ve got you under my skin_  
_I have got you deep in the heart of me_  
_So deep in my heart, you're really a part of me_  
_And I’ve got you under my skin_

She felt a tingle snake along her spine, through her heart and up to her ear where Kuvira was singing softly, mouthing and humming the words more than anything, so that Korra was the only one who could possibly hear her.

 _I have tried so, not to give in_  
_I’ve said to myself this affair it never would go so well_  
_But why should I try to resist when I know so well_  
_That I’ve got you under my skin_

Heat flared in her while Kuvira’s cheek brushed on hers, her lips so close to her ear that Korra could feel the warmth of her breath on her skin. She gripped at the sides of Kuvira’s dress as their pace slowed, leaving them drifting across the balcony.

 _I would sacrifice anything come would might_  
_For the sake of having you near_  
_In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night and repeats in my ear_  
_Don’t you know, you fool, you never can win_  
_Use your mentality, wake up to reality_

Her lips brushed on Korra’s ear before she pulled back slightly, leaving them gazing at each other, the distance between them closed entirely. They stood still, bodies pressed together, hands slowly exploring, while Kuvira almost whispered the last lines in a low tremolo.

 _For each time I do, just the thought of you makes me stop before I begin_  
_Because I’ve got you under my skin_

Korra’s lips meeting hers ended the song. It was a nervous kiss at first, cautious and light, but deepened as Kuvira pushed back, her tongue flitting for an instant over Korra’s lips before they parted and let her in. Korra could taste the sweetness of the champagne on Kuvira’s lips, and she explored almost greedily. They mixed and mingled, reveling in the new tastes of one another while they pressed together more tightly so that heat and desire flowed freely between them.

When they had to come up for air, Kuvira pulled back, smirking as Korra tried to follow her lips. “Breathe, Korra.”

“I want you,” she said desperately, slightly slurring her words. “I want you, Kuvira…”

She thought she felt a little jolt from Kuvira as they stood in silence for a moment, Korra wavering while the head rush wore off, Kuvira mulling over her terribly unromantic confession. Heat and want and deep, aching need had robbed her of whatever eloquence she had, to say nothing of the drinks. She felt her eyelids growing heavy and fought to keep herself coherent.

“Well, here I am,” Kuvira whispered back, taking a step from Korra to lead her back into her room. _Oh no_ , she thought. The bed. She would be out as soon as she got near a pillow.

“Couch…”

“Hmm?” Kuvira asked, dipping down to nibble at her throat before setting Korra down on the side of the bed. She wavered, giving Kuvira a bittersweet smile, and fatigue won out as her head hit the pillow. Before she drifted off, Korra was dimly aware of a kiss on the back of her neck and an arm settling protectively over her.


	23. Skeletons in the Closet

Sleeping in a cheongsam was not a wise move, Korra thought as her eyes flitted open. Still on her side at the edge of the bed, the soft ache in her muscles told her she hadn’t moved all night. The door to the balcony was still thrown back, unclosed, and a small bird was tittering through its late morning song on the balustrade. Her head was still murky, not nearly as intensely as it had been the night before or the morning prior, but she was still hung over. The champagne was insidiously effective.

The weight of Kuvira’s arm shifted on her side and stomach, her hand burrowed snugly between Korra and the bed sheets. It made warmth flare between her legs and snake up her spine, blocking out the nausea for a brief, lovely head rush. Snippets of the end of the night came back as she laid there, returning to the house, dancing, Kuvira singing to her, kissing her. She took a deep, shuddering breath, making Kuvira stir against her. Yes, that had happened, she knew as clarity slowly returned, and was not a product of her imagination. Not anymore.

“That’s the second night you’ve spent in my room,” Kuvira mumbled, removing her arm and using her elbow to prop herself up. Korra turned over and saw she was in shorts and a sleeveless shirt. The definition in her arms and legs was as sharp as ever, flexed as she supported herself. She must have gotten up after Korra fell asleep and changed. Somehow it bothered Korra that she had slipped away in the night, but she returned. “I should start charging you rent.”

“Good luck.” Her voice crackled, in need of water. “I don’t exactly have money.”

“I’m sure we could work something out.”

She had a plainly hungry look on her face, licking her lips as she brushed some hair out of Korra’s face and adjusted the collar of her gown.

“Not sure why, but I feel a little overdressed,” Korra said. Kuvira swept her leg over and straddled Korra, reaching back for the hem near Korra’s feet.

“We can fix that.”

Her fingers tugged at the fabric, lifting it slightly while she waited for Korra to respond. Kuvira’s hips rocked back and forth on her, stoking the fire more and more until it became a sweet, dull ache. She hoped they wouldn’t be missed at breakfast, and undid the fastenings beside her neck. It was all the assent Kuvira needed, and she bent the rest of the fastenings loose before throwing back the outer layer of the dress. Her wraps had come undone in the night, and they fell away as she sat up to shrug out of her cheongsam. Kuvira didn’t wait before cupping her cheeks and kissing her. It was not one of the tentative, curious kisses they had shared the night before, but a desperate, craving kiss with all manner of want behind it. _I need you,_ it said. _I need you now._

Korra moaned softly while Kuvira’s tongue flitted at her lips. She brought her hands up under Kuvira’s undershirt, fingers tracing over the hard, sculpted muscle of her stomach and up to the swells of her breasts. Her hips bucked up into Kuvira’s, desperate to close the small distance between them. The frame underneath them creaked as Kuvira wrapped her arms around Korra and moved her to the center of the bed before lying down next to her, suckling at the delicate flesh of her throat. She took Korra’s hand and guided it down to her bare panties.

“Show me what you like,” Kuvira whispered, lacing their fingers up together. Korra’s hand brushed over her clit through the fabric, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure radiating outward. “Show me how to touch you.”

With a pause for another deep breath, Korra pushed her underwear down with her free hand, uncomfortable where it stuck to her sensitive skin, and let herself lay bare for a moment. Cool air wafted in from the balcony, carrying the heady scents of their arousal through the room. Kuvira slowly looked her up and down, neither lingering on nor ignoring the scars that covered her skin, with the same hungry look in her eyes.

Trying to act out at least a modicum of teasing, Korra took her time in guiding their hands back down, pausing to let Kuvira feel the hair beneath her stomach. Kuvira moved their fingers in circles, disturbing the hair and provoking an odd, but not entirely unpleasant, sensation before they moved on. Korra controlled the position of their hands, but Kuvira determined the motion, seeking out her clit and rolling slowly up and down.

“Did Asami touch you like this?” Kuvira asked, the words barely a hum on her neck. Korra shook her head while fighting not to buck her hips. “No? That beautiful girl never had her fingers on you, never made you shake like this…”

She gasped, the combination of their hands and Kuvira’s lips and tongue on her neck threatening to overwhelm her. Already there was a soft ache on the side of her throat, indicative of a forming bruise, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to come. Her free hand sought out her breasts and she rolled one nipple between her fingers, overloading herself with stimulation.

A cry escaped her, quickly silenced by Kuvira’s lips on hers. Their hands built up a rhythm, working back and forth at a mounting pace and only occasionally tripped up by the growing slickness coating Korra’s thighs and the sheets beneath her. Her legs were weak, twitching every so often, and her breath came in hot, panting gasps. Korra arched her back to press into their hands, letting tightness build up in her chest—

To her credit, Opal did knock, but didn’t wait for a response before opening the door. “Hey, Mom—oh what the fuck!”

Opal stumbled back, tripped over herself and barely missed hitting her head on the wall behind her. Korra yelped and twisted away from the door, leaving her bare back exposed while an altogether different kind of heat flushed over her skin. There was a low, irritated growl from Kuvira, who closed her free hand into a fist and bent the door shut by its knob.

“MomneedsyouIdidn’tseeanything!”

There was a frantic set of footsteps leading away from Kuvira’s room and back into the living area. Korra was still twitching when Kuvira cursed, rolled off the bed and went to throw on some more clothes.

“Wait,” Korra mewled.

“Sorry. It’s probably official stuff.” Kuvira planted a soft kiss on her lips and fixed a government pin on her tunic. “I’ll…I’ll make it up to you, okay? I promise.”

She ducked out of the room, still muttering under her breath about her sister while Korra laid there, panting and shuddering and debating whether or not to try and salvage her orgasm. Turning onto her side had jammed the last joint of her small finger against her thigh, and the residual embarrassment still gnawed at her. Not to mention going back solo wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying, she thought. No, the moment had passed, and irritation began to replace pleasure in her mind. Even when she was a hormone-addled teenager she would be allowed to finish up rather than be dragged off to a training session half-cocked.

Korra clenched her jaw and took a deep breath before wobbling over to her clothes. “Damn it, Opal.”

When she was dressed and acutely aware of the dampness on the thighs of her pants, Korra trudged out of the room and went to the central part of the mansion. She still needed water, more than she had when she woke up. In the sunken living room where they had their more casual meals, all of Kuvira’s siblings were strewn about on the couches in varying states of consciousness—except for Opal, who looked hyperaware as she tried and failed to hold a teacup steady and look anywhere but at Korra—along with a barely awake Asami nodding off against Mako’s shoulder.

“What happened to all of you? It looks like a Beifong bomb went off.”

“There was a drinking contest with some of the caterers after you left,” Huan mumbled, holding his hands to the sides of his head. “Mako won.”

“Firebender metabolism,” he said, pulling his winnings out of his pocket. “Can’t be beat. Liquor goes right through us.”

One of the twins groaned from the couch they had claimed. “Ugh, never again…”

Asami picked herself up from Mako’s side with a quizzical look, sniffing the air in short bursts. Korra blushed and tried to snap her legs together, but it was too late for that. They locked eyes for an instant before Asami saw the hickey on her neck and she looked pointedly away, redness mounting on her face.

“Opal—Opal, look at me—did your mom say anything about what’s going on?” Korra asked, trying to shift their attention.

She remained exceedingly interested in the floor in front of her. “Something about Ba Sing Se, there was a call and it just cut out, they can’t get anyone now.”

Korra’s expression darkened, her annoyance with the girl pushed to the side for the moment. “We might have to leave, then.”

“Fine.” Mako slammed his fist down on the arm of his couch, making everyone grumble. “Fine! I’ve been kicked out of better homes than this!”

The urge to roll her eyes was nearly irresistible to Korra. “We’re not getting kicked out.”

“You have?” Asami asked.

“Well, yours. Remember that time your dad caught us _in flagrante delicto_ with that shock glove—”

“Mako! People!” Asami hissed, a moment too late. All of the Beifongs were already leaning forward with interest.

“No, please, don’t stop on our account,” Baatar Jr. said. “It’d be nice to have a distraction from the pounding headache.”

They were denied any further regaling—and Asami any further mortification—by Kuvira appearing from the west corridor. “Korra, Mako,” she began, then added after a moment, “Asami. Could you come with me, please?”

She led them past the various offices on the west side of the house to a pair of large mahogany doors at the end of a hall. They shuffled in after her and found themselves in Su’s office, a tastefully understated room filled with comfortable furniture and little relics from her past travels. Su was at her desk, tunic pressed and hair coiffed, the bags under her eyes serving as the only reminder of the night before.

“We have a problem,” Kuvira said as they went into the room.

“Opal said something about Ba Sing Se?” Mako asked. She stiffened a bit at the mention of her sister before Su nodded.

“I was on the phone with the geological service, trying to get a survey team here to redraw our topographical map—” she paused and looked wryly at Korra— “When the call cut out. It happens, but the line was dead a moment later when I called back. All the lines into Ba Sing Se are dead, all the emergency channels are down, and I just spoke to the governor’s offices in Yai and Gao. No one can get through to the capital.”

A tense silence fell over the room for a moment as they all exchanged glances. Mako had to sit down, and Korra felt a knot growing in her stomach.

“We should have pressed Aiwei harder,” she said. “You should have let me at him.”

Su got up and nervously bent one of the prongs of her necklace. “There are rules about these things, Korra. We made every effort to find out what he knew, but…”

“He was always the one handling interrogations,” Mako said, to which Kuvira nodded.

Asami crossed her arms. “It’s not like it matters much now. We have to get to Ba Sing Se as soon as we can.”

“Have you ever been there?” Mako asked. “It’s huge and not exactly easy to get around. The Red Lotus could be anywhere, if it is them behind this.”

Korra felt sparks threatening to crackle out from her hands in frustration. “There’s only one place they could be going. The palace. They’ll want the Earth Queen dead and leave the rest of the city to pull itself apart in the chaos. Su, we have to go.”

“I can get you an airship—”

“Pepper will be faster. We’ll have to bypass the desert,” Korra said, looking at a map of the Earth Kingdom on the wall. “That should make it about five days. Four if we rush.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Mako asked, springing to his feet and pulling his contest winnings out of his pocket again. “We’ve got our supply money right here.”

Nervous determination burned in his eyes, making Korra’s next words all the more difficult. “Mako, the city could be falling apart. We may need an army to get it under control. I need you and Su to go back to Republic City and get as much of the United Forces as you can. You’re a Councilor’s brother, and Su’s sister is the chief of police and Tenzin is her cousin, your voices together have to count for something. Please,” she added, seeing the worry set over him.

“As long as we can leave things here well-defended,” Su said.

“But I’ve been there, I know the streets,” Mako began, but she stayed resolute. “All right. If that’s what you need, Water Tribe.”

She clasped his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” Kuvira said, quickly working her hair into its usual braid. “I’ve been to the city too, I…I used to live there.”

“Absolutely not.” Sharpness rang in Su’s usually calm voice, taking them all aback. “You are not going to Ba Sing Se. That’s an order.”

“You’d rather let them waste time getting lost?” When she received no reply, Kuvira slowly removed her government pin and set it on the table between the couches. “I won’t, Mom.”

“Kuvira, I need you here! I promised, I promised I’d keep you away from that city! I promised I’d keep you safe!”

She whirled around to face her mother, fists clenching in a way Korra had never seen when they spoke. “Promised who? The father that abandoned me? That left me here, that wanted nothing to do with me?”

Her voice cracked, and thick tears threatened to spill down as she tried to clench her jaw.

“Yes. I promised your father.” Su closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Prince Zhu.”

⁂

Open Council meetings always put Lin on edge, this one doubly so now that all she could do was walk slowly with the help of a leg brace. Her presence was not in any official capacity, but as that of a citizen of the United Republic, like all the people around her in the Council chamber gallery. The police had thoroughly checked everyone in attendance, even her at her insistence, but there was no way to turn off her cop’s instincts. She studied every face, inspected every nook and cranny of the room, and swept her gaze over the space under the seats around her. There were far too many important people in attendance to rule out an Equalist attack, increased security or not.

“Aunt Lin, stress is only going to prolong your healing process. Let the cops do their job.”

Ikki tried giving her a comforting glance, but Lin was having none of it. She didn’t know which was worse, that her doctor had insisted on an escort out of the hospital, or that her ex-boyfriend’s daughter was the one to do it. At least she had calmed down since getting her arrows. Lin regretted missing the ceremony, Ikki was…surprisingly endearing, in an arm’s-length kind of way.

“I’m still a cop, kid.”

She seemed to take affront to that, as if her tattoos magically made her an adult. Well, they would have in Air Nomad society, Lin thought. But fourteen was fourteen, and anyone younger than her was a kid as far as she was concerned. Lin nudged her shoulder, bringing back Ikki’s usual beaming expression. There were worse people to have around, she supposed.

“What’s happening, anyway?”

“Hell, you probably know more than me,” Lin said. “All I get are snippets from Bolin and what I read in the papers, which is next to nothing ever since Future Industries bought most of them. I only know it’s so important that Bolin decided to make it public.”

Ikki swooned at the mention of her precocious crush, but Lin was spared any further conversation by the Councilors filing out of their offices at the back of the room and toward their table. Everyone stood, and Lin couldn’t stop the surge of shame that rushed through her when Ikki had to help her to her feet. The brace helped keep the worst of the pressure off the healing skin, but it would be a long time before she was back to normal. Maybe never. She didn’t have the resilience of youth to fall back on. Ikki guided her back down when everyone else took their seats.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Bolin said, twirling his gavel on the table. “We decided to open this meeting to the public because of the magnitude of the threat the Equalists pose to all of us, and to our city.”

The crowd murmured some agreement before he continued. “Too many people have died already for their false notion of equality. Benders and nonbenders alike are being terrorized, all victims of their zealotry. We’ve come here today to tell you that enough is enough!”

He pounded his fist on the table with every word to drive his point home, getting the onlookers going with each rap of his knuckles. They drank in his words, pounding their feet and making the chamber shake. No, Lin realized. It wasn’t diffuse, raucous motion rumbling the floor, it was coming from a single, well-masked source. Bolin.

Lin watched as he continued his speech. He gave no indication of earthbending, or at least nothing anyone else could detect without a seismograph. She would never tell anyone, least of all him, that he was frighteningly skilled, maybe even more so than her. It made him dangerous. His speech was the usual politician’s fare, empty platitudes, honeyed words, lots of talking without actually saying anything. The crowd was eating it up.

 _They’re buying this. And these people vote,_ Lin thought with a shudder.

“The safety of all our law-abiding citizens is paramount—”

Bolin stopped, wide-eyed, and threw his gavel into the crowd, guiding it by the brass on the handle. It struck a man as he was standing and pulling an Equalist bandanna up over his face. The gavel came in right between his eyes, landing with a sharp _crack_ and sending him over the back of his seat. Lin threw herself over Ikki as the guards rushed in to grab him, fighting the man as much as the onlookers around him. She glanced back as the girl clung to her and watched them drag the man away. The mask slipped off as he struggled, and Lin only got the briefest of glances at him, but that was enough.

 _He’s no Equalist, he’s…Cheng? One of Mako’s people?_ Lin tried to stand up for a better view, but her leg refused to cooperate. Instead she looked back at Bolin as Ikki burrowed defensively against her, floating his gavel back to thunderous applause. _There’s more going on here._

“As I was saying, our first concern should be the safety of our citizens. I think that minor disturbance only underscores my point,” he said, giving the crowd a calculatedly restrained smile. “And that’s why we need to present a united front against these terrorists. One force, behind one person.”

“That little…he’s really going to do it,” Lin muttered, drowned out by the clamoring around her.

“Someone with proven experience,” Bolin said. “Someone cool under pressure. Someone like…Councilor Tenzin.”

If anyone could be said to be the most surprised person in the room, it was Tenzin himself. All the color drained from his face as Bolin went on amidst confused murmurs. “Reelected with a completely unanimous decision, son of Avatar Aang, father of the new Air Nation. I can’t think of anyone better suited to steward us through this crisis as our President.”

Tenzin’s objections were drowned out by the throng that Bolin had whipped into a frenzy. The actual vote was swift, and the rest of the Council looked as blindsided as Tenzin as they were forced to go along with the crowd, with any dissent from the other Councilors shouted down. Bolin appointed himself to the humble vice presidency in the same vote, a footnote against the chants of “Tenzin, Tenzin, Tenzin!”

“What’s happening?” Ikki asked, holding tightly to her charge’s hand.

Lin looked grimly on as reporters pushed through to what had just been the Council table. “History’s first unwilling coup.”

When the audience and press dispersed and the remaining government positions had been doled out among the other Councilors, Lin pulled herself to her feet by forcibly straightening out her leg brace. Ikki helped her from the gallery to the front of the room, where no one but Bolin seemed to have any idea what was going on.

“Dad!”

Ikki ran up and jumped into her father’s arms, though it could do nothing to take the look of shock off his face. “Does this mean you’re the boss of everyone now?”

“I’m not sure, sweetie,” he said, absently rubbing her back.

With them still reeling, Lin took the opportunity to pull Bolin aside, limping with him in tow to a corner of the room. “A word, Mr. Vice President?”

“Good to see you up and about, Chief.” He put a hand on her arm, from which she pulled away. “Don’t worry, you’ll have your job back when you’re ready.”

“That guy with the bandanna. I’ve arrested him before. He’s a firebender, not an Equalist. He’s with the Triple Threats.”

“I guess he had a change of heart,” Bolin said with a shrug. “Self-hating bender? I’ve seen stranger things, believe me. Maybe the Equalists forced him into whatever they were planning.”

“Or maybe someone put him up to it. Someone very familiar with the triads.”

“Lin, I think being cooped up in that hospital made you a little stir-crazy.” He gave her one of his politician’s smiles, the kind that didn’t go all the way up to his eyes. A lying smile. “Besides, _can_ you think of anyone more trustworthy to get us through these difficult times?”

“You set it all up,” she said, moving back. “The public meeting, the assailant—all to get the crowd on your side! To prop Tenzin up so you can swoop in when he caves under the pressure!”

“In case you weren’t paying attention, I already had the crowd on my side.”

“This isn’t over. I’m going to get the truth out.”

“Oh, Lin.” He stepped past her to go back to the others, shooting a dangerous glance her way. “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.”

⁂

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to find out like this—”

Su’s pleas fell on deaf ears, and Kuvira only sat on the couch beside Korra, reeling as if she had been punched in the gut. Mako and Asami sat opposite them, looking as surprised as anyone else.

“How was I supposed to tell you? Over dinner? ‘Can you pass the salad? By the way, did you know you’re a princess?’”

Kuvira looked brokenly at her mother. “You didn’t want me to find out at all, did you?”

“It wasn’t my choice, honey.” Su knelt down beside her, pulling her into a weak, one-sided hug. “Those were your father’s wishes. But I did it for you, not for him.”

“How do you even know Prince Zhu?” Mako asked, leaning forward. “You’re not exactly a royalist. Seems like you only pay lip service to the queen and the monarchy.”

She went to one of the bookcases lining the room and picked up a pair of slit-eyed goggles that sat in front of an old picture. Kuvira held her head in her hands and began to rock slowly back and forth.

“I lived in a sandbender commune for a few years in my twenties in the Si Wong Desert. Very ascetic, very spiritual. I was able to teach some of them metalbending, so they accepted me. The little iron they had for their skiffs was more valuable than water out there.” A small smile played on her lips as the memories caught up with her.

“A few of us went out to trade with one of the border villages, but we hit a rough patch on the way back and had to stop to repair our skiff. I was rigging the sail when this half-naked idiot came stumbling over a dune, ready to keel over from thirst. The sandbenders I was with had to return to the commune, so I carried him back to the border village. Little skunk weasel tried to pinch my ass,” Su said, rolling her eyes.

“And that was the prince?” Korra asked. She wrapped Kuvira up in her arms, stroking her half-braided hair while she fought back whimpers.

“When I finally got some water in him, he told me his name was Zhu. It’s a common enough name that I didn’t think anything of it at the time. He told me he was out there seeking spiritual enlightenment in between bad come-ons. I told him he might want to think about bringing more provisions the next time he wanted to wander around the desert like a fool.”

“Impulsive, woefully unprepared, kind of lecherous?” Mako sat back in his seat. “Sounds like royalty.”

Korra glared at him. “Okay, okay, not Water Tribe royalty.”

She had sent the glare his way more for the sake of Kuvira, but his comment did serve to jog her memory. Korra was a princess as well, if not at the same scale. That would have to count for something, she thought.

“I didn’t find out until a few years later, when I tried to buy all of this land from the crown. My purchase and build requests had been fast-tracked by a Prince Zhu, and he recommended making Zaofu the provincial capital when everything was reorganized decades ago. He came to visit when the first domes were finished and made sure to tell me that he packed plenty of supplies for the trip back. You were with him,” Su said, sitting down beside Kuvira and absently finishing the braid in her hair. “You couldn’t have been more than a year old. You were so beautiful.”

“So what happened?” Kuvira asked, her voice dull and flat. “Why did he bring me here again and just leave me?”

“I don’t know, darling. He only told us your life would be in danger if you stayed in Ba Sing Se, and he begged me to keep you away from the capital, away from all the politicking there. You’re too far down in the line of succession to be a target, fourteenth the last time I checked, but I never found out what danger he was talking about. I told him what he was doing was cruel, but he was terrified of something, and eventually I…I tried to focus on giving you the best life I could here instead of being angry and disappointed with him.”

Tears hit Kuvira’s lap, and even Asami looked like she felt sorry for her. “All those things you’ve ever said about the monarchy, the royal family…did you mean them about me, too?”

Su shook her head and lightly kissed her daughter’s cheek. “No, no, of course not. You’ve seen the things that make me take issue with them. You were never like that. You’re kind and conscientious and so driven…you’re not anything like them. Not anything like your father.”

“I can’t even remember what he looks like.”

“Well, I never got to meet her, but your good looks come from your mother, I’d bet my life on it.” She laughed weakly for a moment, but no one else joined in. “Kuvira, I don’t know why your father did what he did, I only know you deserved a family and a loving home, and that’s what Baatar and I gave you. We love you so much, you know that. You’re as much my daughter as Opal. You’re a Beifong.”

“I know,” she said. There was a long moment of silence, and then Kuvira stood up, slipping out of Korra’s grasp and letting her hair fall loose again. “I’m going to Ba Sing Se.”

“Kuvira, please, I promised—”

“You don’t owe my father anything.” She started for the door. “ _I_ don’t owe him anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Earth Kingdom royal family tree](http://i.imgur.com/wxcBdsp.png)


	24. Darkness Falls

She should have expected it, but Korra was still surprised at the crowd that had appeared as they were all preparing to leave. There were the five of them, the rest of the Beifongs, the guards stabling Pepper, provincial security…Korra groaned. She hadn’t wanted to make a spectacle of their departure, but their group attracted too much attention to go unnoticed. By the time they were at the airship dock, they had amassed quite the curious following.

“It was like this the last time we left for a diplomatic trip,” Kuvira said as the elevator opened up onto the dock. “Mom loves a crowd.”

Kuvira had recovered somewhat in the few hours they spent preparing to leave, but Korra still noticed a certain somberness hanging over her, an uncomfortable change from her usual quiet confidence. Korra slipped their hands together, which got a small smile out of her.

“Lin might just throw me back in jail if I show up in Republic City without you,” Mako said.

“Stick with Su and you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” They began dispersing onto the dock, but he hung back. “Korra, do you have a minute?”

“What, now?” She turned to him with a frustrated glance. Kuvira went on ahead, cautiously approaching Pepper alongside Asami. “We have literally one minute, and if you’re going to tell me it’s a mistake bringing both Asami and Kuvira along—”

“No, I’ll let you deal with that tiger hornet’s nest on your own. Even I wasn’t dumb enough to put Asami and Mei in the same room. It’s about Jinora.” He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the display of vulnerability. “They went to Ba Sing Se about a week ago for some recital. I called down to Kyoshi Island an hour ago, no one’s heard from them since before the capital went dark. Maybe if you’re not too busy keeping those two from each other’s throats…?”

“We’ll find her,” Korra said. “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

Su and Kuvira said their goodbyes to their families and each other while Asami offered a small package to Mako. “Here, get this to Bolin or Tenzin or someone who can get it to the police.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Something I worked on with Baatar. Designs for a countermeasure against the spirit vine weapons. The Equalists have gone completely off the rails since we left, they need to be stopped. I never wanted people to die.” Asami chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “There’s a false bottom in the hope chest in my room, it’s got copies of their hideout locations, infrastructure, maps of the sewer systems they use. I don’t know how much of it is out of date now, but the police should have it.”

Mako nodded and tentatively hugged her, patting her back as she kissed his cheek. They parted, and he waited for Su while dodging Pepper’s tongue as she embraced her husband, the new Foreign Minister and provisional governor. Korra shook some hands and got some hugs of her own, even a fleeting embrace from Opal.

“Next time you knock, _wait_ ,” Korra said, to which she could only blush furiously and nod. Wing and Wei got her in a tandem hug next.

“You take care of our sister, you hear?” one of them asked.

“And make sure you come back in one piece, we’ll have enough rules worked out for a doubles match against you two,” the other said.

Their lightheartedness did wonders to buoy Korra’s spirits after such a glum morning. “Who would ref? No one else can decipher your crazy rules, anyway.”

She ducked a few playful punches to the arms and climbed into Pepper’s saddle. Asami sat quietly on one side, while Kuvira clung to the other side of the saddle for dear life. Su finally broke away from her family and joined Mako on the airship ramp. “Good hunting,” he yelled as the rotors began to spin up. They disappeared into the hull, and Korra settled into the groove in Pepper’s neck. He snorted.

“Oh knock it off, you let Mako sit here and I know he weighs more than me. Yip yip!”

Pepper began lumbering toward the edge of the platform. “How fast does this thing go?” Kuvira asked, still holding the side of the saddle in a death grip.

“Depends,” Asami said. Even from only the tone of her voice over the wind, Korra could tell she was enjoying Kuvira’s apprehension far too much.

“On what?”

They ran out of platform, and there was an instant where they hung in the air and their stomachs dropped.

“How far we fall first.”

Korra braced herself against Pepper’s back and the saddle as the bison tilted and began to shoot downward. The wind whipped through her hair, stymied slightly by the low-level airbending from Pepper that also helped keep the saddle in place. She looked back and saw Kuvira trying her best not to panic, her arms wrapped like pincers around a hole in the side of the saddle while she kept her eyes shut tight. Asami was moving one hand in a tight spiral, diverting most of the rushing air around her.

The ground rapidly came into greater and greater focus until individual rocks were visible. Korra tugged on the reins, unnecessary as it was, and Pepper righted himself, launching back into the sky. Soon they were level with the mooring platform, looking at the dispersing crowd and the airship making its way northwest to Republic City over the mountains. That shrunk until they skimmed beneath the clouds, hitching a ride on a trade wind to take them around the desert.

“Okay, keep going this way, Pepper,” Korra said, climbing up into the saddle. “So, what do you think?”

Kuvira took a few deep breaths before responding, making every effort not to look over the side. “I think it’s a good thing we skipped breakfast.”

“Aww, he’s not so bad,” Asami said, reaching over to scratch Pepper’s side.

“Well, I happen to prefer the ground. I’m strange like that. I have to…I have to process some things.” She tapped the steel strips on her sleeve in a soothing rhythm, closing her eyes and sitting up a little straighter with her legs crossed.

Asami shrugged and took a pai sho set from her bag. The pieces locked in place on the board to keep them steady on rocking boats, but the principle applied equally well to windy bison saddles. “How about a game?”

Korra looked between them and hesitated. The result of the last time she pushed too hard on someone after emotional damage weighed on her mind. It wasn’t a mistake she was eager to repeat, and she decided to give Kuvira her space for the time being.

“Sure. Set it up,” she said, scooting over to Asami’s side of the saddle while she laid out the board.

⁂

“Korra’s a Water Tribe princess, Kuvira’s an Earth Kingdom princess…if I meet a Fire Nation princess, it’ll be a neat little hat trick.”

With an idle flick of his wrist, Mako kept their fire going, making it flare up every so often to keep things interesting. He still wasn’t sure how Su had set the airship down in a mountain pass, but there it was, settled in between two sheer escarpments. They might have been in the United Republic already for all he knew, since the border ran through the Beipu Range at the southern end.

Four days in an airship was a far cry from riding on Pepper. For one, the airship never tried to lick him or shake him out into the empty air, although there was something oddly soothing about being around such a large, gentle creature. The airship only plodded northwest under Su’s steady direction, leaving Mako to do little but sit around with his cards or his erhu. At least Su had nice things to say about his playing rather than merely tolerating it. He had caught his finger with the knife while cooking earlier, and their only post-dinner music that night was the wind and the far-off howl of wolves.

At any rate, they weren’t getting to Republic City for at least another day, and so Mako boiled the water for their tea. He rarely had tea and even more rarely made it for himself, but Su was insistent on something to settle their stomachs after dinner. The kettle began whistling until he stopped stoking the fire, lowering to a dull ring as Su came down the ramp to their small campsite.

“Here we go,” she said, bending the top off the kettle and dropping in some leaves to steep. “Ginger and lemon, my favorite. Do you have a flavor you like?”

“I prefer coffee, actually. Late nights.”

“Triad upper management doesn’t get nights off?”

She spoke so casually, as if they were talking about the warm breeze in the air. Mako stiffened instinctively like he did any time a Beifong mentioned triad activity, but relaxed once his mind caught up to his body and he remembered it was Su, not Lin. Nothing he said or did seemed to faze her. “I guess you could call me a micromanager. I liked to make sure things were running smoothly.”

“You really are just like Lin, you know that?”

“I’m not sure she would agree,” Mako said. “More like you, maybe.”

“Oh, on opposite sides of the law, sure. But you’re both control freaks—sorry, ‘micromanagers’—and have this sardonic, self-deprecating kind of humor. And you have much more fun younger siblings,” she added with a teasing smile.

“I see. Did your sister ever make you the Avatar’s hostage for two months? We weren’t so buddy-buddy when she dragged me out of prison to go hunting anarchists. I slept with one eye open for days because I thought she’d send me overboard.”

Su checked the tea, but set the lid back in place to let it continue steeping. “You seemed on good enough terms when we left. And she trusted you enough to go back with me to get reinforcements.”

“True. But she was too busy thinking of how to keep Kuvira and Asami from attacking each other to worry much about me. That’s about as volatile a combination as I can think of. Maybe she just likes the ego boost of having two women after her, I know I would.”

Mako tried to catch his words as they spilled out, realizing that he may have revealed something that Su didn’t know, but she only nodded in understanding. “I figured that was why they were so standoffish to one another. But they wouldn’t jeopardize such an important mission, would they?”

“Well…Asami tried to buy my apartment building and bulldoze it after she broke up with me. Korra tore a mountain apart the day after Asami broke up with her. I don’t know what Kuvira does in a similar situation, but if things go badly we might just find a crater near the desert.”

Finally, Su seemed satisfied with the tea, poured out two mugs and handed one to Mako. “Your guess is as good as mine, she’s stayed out of relationships. Maybe she didn’t want to tell us she preferred women.”

A joke occurred to Mako about Kuvira and Huan, but as Asami frequently reminded him, he wasn’t nearly as funny as he thought, and so he decided against telling it. Those were Su’s children, after all. “You know, I kind of get where she was coming from. Not the whole secretly-being-royalty thing, but about her father. I lost my parents when I was eight, too. I can’t even remember what they look like, unless I check the picture in my wallet. The only face I see when I try to imagine my mother is—”

He caught himself again and quickly sipped his tea, biting back a whimper as it scorched his mouth. Another wolf howled, louder than the last. Su waited with an impassive expression, blowing on her own tea while he sputtered and choked his down. The back of his throat burned worse than the time he tried to firebend his own steak. “Strong stuff,” he choked out.

“Lin,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“That’s not to repeat, now.”

Su settled closer to Mako and ran her fingers through his hair. It struck him as a rather familiar gesture, if not entirely unwelcome. Her hand was soft.

“I’ve left this alone since before the party, but I really would like to know what’s going on with you and my sister,” Su said softly, putting down her tea and then setting Mako’s beside it. “Not just because I want to get out of the way if you’re going to go crazy on each other when we get to Republic City. You’re carrying around a lot of pain, and my maternal instincts can’t abide that.”

Mako laughed mirthlessly and let himself lean into her hand. “Am I that obvious?”

“The only way it could be any more apparent is if you had a big sign over your head flashing ‘mommy issues,’ honey.”

“So I’ve got issues. Who doesn’t?”

“Would it make you feel better if I shared first?” Su asked.

He shrugged. “I won’t stop you.”

“I can understand how Kuvira feels, too,” she said, shifting over in her seat until they were right against one another. Mako didn’t mind. “About her father. Feeling abandoned. Feeling angry. It’s why I was so disappointed with the prince. Why I made sure Baatar and I treated her no differently than the rest of our children.”

“But your father was Councilor Sokka, wasn’t he? We met your half-brother on Kyoshi Island.”

Su nodded. “He was my father in the sense that he slept with my mother once, not because he ever acted like it. He went back to his wife before I was born. I spent more time with my Aunt Katara’s kids than I ever did with my parents. They probably felt sorry for me more than anything.”

An uncharacteristic bitterness tinged her voice. “Mom pretty much let us do our own thing, and Sokka was always at arm’s length. Didn’t acknowledge me beyond some birthday presents, and Mom never pushed for him to be a bigger part of my life. Sometimes I wish she never told me who my father was, I wish I had never asked. I wonder if it would have been easier that way. Every time I saw his picture in the paper or heard his voice on the radio, it hurt. Finally I decided that he didn’t deserve to be a part of my life, and eventually he passed away without us ever clearing the air.”

“How did that…”

“How’d that make me feel? This is going to sound horrible, but it didn’t make me feel anything. I was pregnant with the twins at the time, I don’t think I could have fit another emotion in my body. My brother called and told me, and it was just…another part of my day. I hung up and went back to work. I cried that night, but I think that was more because I was getting up every fifteen minutes to pee.”

She kissed the top of his head while staying right beside him. It was a platonic, motherly thing, and it made him squirm. Mako wanted desperately to lose himself in the moment, to feel some small affection from this woman who owed him nothing, but a deep part of him refused to relax, and instead set him to worry. “Your turn.”

 _How do women keep wheedling stories out of me,_ Mako wondered as he took a deep breath. “Okay. I wasn’t abandoned, and I didn’t have a deadbeat dad. My parents were killed in front of me and my brother.”

“That’s terrible,” Su murmured, and her voice combined with the comforting crackle of the fire allowed him to relax the tiniest bit. “I’m so sorry.”

“It gets worse. It’s my fault.”

“What?”

“I wanted to go see that mover that night. I’m the reason we weren’t home. I’m the reason they were mugged,” Mako said, his voice sullen and thick. “I’m the reason they’re dead.”

“Oh, sweetie, no, you couldn’t have known. You’ve been blaming yourself all this time?”

“You sound like your sister. Bolin had fallen asleep in the theater, he didn’t see what happened, and I didn’t know the way home. Republic City is huge. It took about…two or three days before we wound up at the police station. We were filthy by then.” He laughed despite himself. “Chief Beifong got a hold of us as soon as we walked in.”

Mako grabbed his tea and took a cautious sip. It wasn’t so hot anymore. “She sat with us for most of the day, got us clean clothes and some food while she took my statement. Bolin started falling asleep again that night and she didn’t want us to sleep in an interview room, so she took us to her house.”

“Breaking dozens of regulations along the way, I’m sure,” Su said, almost as if she were proud of the fact. “I never figured Lin for the maternal type.”

“She set us up on her couch and listened to the pro-bending matches on the radio with us. I remember she started groaning when the Cabbage Corp commercials came on. Eventually she ruffled my hair and tucked us in for the night,” he said, not even bothering to fight the grin creeping across his lips.

“I must have missed the letter where Lin said she adopted two kids. It’d certainly explain why she takes everything you do so personally.”

“You didn’t.” Mako ran his hand through his hair. “I ran away.”

“Why?”

“Because I blamed myself for my parents dying. I didn’t…I didn’t want that to happen to her. My being around her was dangerous.”

Su cocked an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I was eight,” Mako said dryly. “My grasp of cause and effect wasn’t fantastic at the time. I left a few days later with Bolin and ended up falling in with the triads. The next time I saw Lin was three years later when a bunch of us got rounded up for running numbers.”

“You poor thing.”

“Well, _now_ you don’t sound like Lin. We’ve been butting heads for a long time and the nicest thing she’s said in years was that I had potential. ‘Had’ being the key word, of course.”

“And hitting on her constantly?” Su asked. Mako felt her shift away slightly.

“That was more about annoying her enough to stay away from me. I made it clear to my people that I didn’t want her harmed, but you never know when someone’s going to try and be a hero. It never worked, she kept haranguing me. Have to give her credit for that, I guess. I’d rather she be alive and hate me than dead. That’s worked out so far.”

Without a word, Su wrapped her arms around Mako and pulled him in against her, resting his cheek in the crook of her shoulder while she stroked his hair. He started and tried to pull away, but her grip was surprisingly firm. “What are you—?”

“Giving you what you need,” she said, pulling him to her side. “You just need some affection. Some caring. Knowing that you’re not alone. And a night of not thinking you’re a bad luck charm for the people around you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t deserve this.” Despite his protest, Mako relaxed into her embrace, breathing deeply to keep his composure. “I don’t…I’ve done really terrible things, Su.”

“And now you’re here with me, doing some good. Do you intend on punishing yourself for the rest of your life? Because if you are, then you’re more like Lin than you might want to admit.” Su shifted in place until she was fully hugging him. “All you can do is try to forgive yourself and do better from now on. Don’t go beating yourself up forever. No one likes a martyr.”

Mako gripped at the fabric of her tunic, finally feeling the sting of tears. Something snapped nearby, and the fine little hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Another wolf howled. Not louder—closer. He pulled away from Su and they both scanned their surroundings. It was dark outside of the little sphere of light provided by the fire, and all they could see were spots of motion in the blackness.

He heard the wolf before he saw it, snarling as it came prowling up to the fire. Small, angry yellow eyes glared back at him, mottled fangs bared. Mako pushed Su back and threw a wide punch, sending out an arc of fire that went slightly too high. The wolf dropped low and sprang forward, jaws snapping until they sank around the arm he threw up to shield himself. Little shocks of pain shot up to his shoulder as the wolf wrenched its head from side to side, and out of the corner of his eye Mako saw two, three, four more wolves padding forward.

With his free hand, he jabbed the wolf in the belly, channeling whatever lightning he could call up into it. The shock only made the fangs clamp down tighter, spraying the wolf’s muzzle with blood until it went limp. Behind it, the ground beneath the remaining wolves shifted, and spindly earthen spikes from Su caught two of them in the throats.

The fangs in his forearm dislodged as the first wolf slumped, and Mako’s arm bled freely as it hung at his side. His head began to spin, dizzy with pain and the beginnings of shock. He grabbed a piece of firewood and threw it at the last two wolves, landing close enough to one to send it running. The last one hesitated, long enough for him to reach into the fire, grab the scalding teapot, and lob it at the shaggy wolf. His aim was true, and the teapot shattered on the wolf’s head, sending the rest of their tea sinking into its eyes and snout. It yelped as it too ran off, and Mako sent another spindle of lightning after it for good measure, ignoring the searing pain in his hand where he had held the teapot.

The fading sound of crunching underbrush was the last thing he heard as Su grabbed him. A dull ringing drowned out everything else, and his head lolled to one side while she dragged him back to the airship. His blood was smeared across her tunic. He would have to apologize for that.

⁂

Korra watched Kuvira go through the same routine every time they touched down, clambering out of Pepper’s saddle and sitting on the ground with a look of overjoyed relief on her face for a moment before she could do anything else. Pepper usually took the opportunity to sniff at her, as if she had acquired some new scent while on his back, but she never seemed to mind.

“Solid ground,” she said to herself as Korra and Asami climbed down from the saddle. It was late in the afternoon when they landed, and they cast long shadows as they surveyed the area. “Ba Sing Se should be about another half day’s ride from here. The Outer Wall will be hard to miss.”

They made camp as they had for the past few days, making a crude earthen shelter around a fire pit and cannibalizing their empty supply crates for fuel. Korra tried to make sense of one of Su’s scrawled recipes, and eventually she got their stew going. It was a simple mix of vegetables and lacked the meat she would have liked, but what little beef they had been able to bring had been eaten days before. The last of their carrots, kale and onions would have to do.

“How about we spar for a bit?” Kuvira asked, checking the metal strips affixed to her armor in her bag. “Keep ourselves sharp. I know there’s been no chance the last few days with all the flying.”

She almost shuddered at the last word, but Korra made no motion to get up. “I think I’d like to study the map some more while we still have the daylight. The city’s massive, I want a better idea of the layout. And I don’t want to leave the stew to burn.”

“Oh. All right.”

“I’ll spar with you,” Asami said.

Korra bristled and looked at both of them. She was well aware that they were civil to one another at best, and being stuck together for days in Pepper’s saddle had strained that to the absolute limit. All week she had hoped the gravity of their situation would foster at least a little cooperation, but the best she got was them trading increasingly unsubtle barbs when they weren’t sharing the tense silence. Being in the middle of their issues didn’t make her feel any better, either. Korra realized three days after leaving Zaofu that Mako had been right. The thought made her shudder.

Asami shrugged off her jacket, showing the tone in her arms while she tied her hair back. Korra swallowed hard. She must have been hitting the Beifong’s gym. Kuvira cocked an eyebrow.

“You’re serious.”

“Not up to it?”

She smirked, and Korra sighed internally as Kuvira rose to her taunt. “All right, Sato.” She fixed a few strips of metal around her thighs and pulled off her tunic, leaving her chest wraps and abdominal muscles exposed. Korra shamefully pressed her legs tighter together while she stared and simmered the stew. “Guess I knew this was coming. Airbending, chi blocking, that little glove you have in your bag—it’s all fair game. Let’s go.”

 _I really should stop this,_ Korra thought as they walked clear of their campsite. Heat baked into them from the last rays of the sun, leaving small trickles of sweat to glisten over their skin. _They’re going to…start stretching…_

The stew began to bubble over as Korra’s tightening fists made the campfire flare up. She snuffed out the fire, not trusting herself to keep it in check, and turned back to her companions. Asami wasted no time in trying to close the distance between them, sidestepping the metal strips that flew her way. Kuvira threw one arm forward and snapped the other back to her side, making the ground beneath Asami turn completely around. Her momentum carried her back a few steps before she was able to correct, whipping back to send a rush of air out from the flick of her wrist.

Kuvira staggered back, reeling from the unseen impact, and Asami pressed her advantage. She darted up again, swirling air around her feet to spring forward and land in a slide that ripped at the leg of her pants. Her fists jabbed toward Kuvira’s side, but the remaining strips of metal shot up and coalesced to form a barrier. Asami’s hands hit cold steel, making her hiss in pain before the strips separated and fell back into place.

She knew stopping them was the only course of action that wouldn’t result in injury, but Korra could only watch them, entranced. Heat flushed on her face as they traded blows, all the while ignoring the impulse to pull them apart.

Asami jammed her boot into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust that she sent flying with a well-timed gust. The residual blast cost Kuvira her footing, and she gasped as she fell back. Most of the dust missed her, and she pulled the rest out of the air. It all collapsed into a single point and hardened into a rock that went speeding back at Asami. She managed to catch it, but it spun in her palm, rubbing the skin there raw before breaking into dust again.

Blood smeared on her undershirt as Asami wiped her hand on it. Kuvira leapt to her feet, bringing the metal on her legs up as wrist guards not an instant before Asami was on top of her again, dispensing with airbending altogether. Her strikes met Kuvira’s counters, flying out with all the energy of a coiled snake. Every punch she threw met empty air, until Kuvira grabbed both of her hands and pulled them out at their sides.

Their faces were a few hair’s widths apart for a moment before Kuvira’s wrist guards unlinked and clamped around Asami’s forearms. They dragged her back, arms still outstretched, until Asami brought her legs up and kicked forward. Kuvira’s eyes widened an instant before the pocket of air hit her, and she tumbled back as Korra came to her senses and brought a stone wall up between them.

“Sparring session’s over,” she said, finally getting a hold of herself. Korra unfastened the wrist guards and set them over by the fire before bringing the wall down. Asami went up to Kuvira as she righted herself. They locked eyes for a moment, a long moment where Korra prepared to intervene again, and then Asami offered Kuvira her hand. She took it, and there was still tension as Asami pulled her up, but small grins punctuated it as they walked back with Korra to the campfire.

“That was clever, with the dust,” Kuvira said, reforming her wrist guards into their constituent strips and floating them into her bag.

“You managed to turn it around pretty quickly.”

She nodded. “I grew up with two brothers who wanted to fight, every single day, and not one-on-one. Just quick thinking honed by years of knocking Wing and Wei’s heads together. Your style, though…it’s very syncretic. You mixed your hand-to-hand with forms from all different kinds of bending styles. I couldn’t get a good read on it.”

“Guess I picked up a thing or two from fighting all those bending triads,” Asami said with a small trace of pride.

Korra looked askance at them, which thankfully went unnoticed. _They’re talking. They’re not fighting. Did they hit their heads?_

Rather than pick at a precarious situation, Korra rekindled the fire and ladled out their dinner while they continued to talk and the sun dipped into the horizon. She finally began studying their map by the light of the campfire, taking note of all the small grooves and irregularities in the walls, committing to memory the places where rail lines ran through the openings.

“Korra?”

“Yeah?”

“The map’s upside down,” Kuvira said as she rotated it properly. “We’re going to be approaching from this direction.”

“Oh. I knew that. What can you tell us about the city?”

She leaned forward and pointed at one corner of the map while Korra held up a handful of fire for light. “Where we’re coming in, here in the southwest, is the most heavily trafficked quarter of the outer city. It’s the main trade corridor for goods coming in and out. There are control towers here and here that regulate the airships and cargo trains. I doubt they’ll notice a single flying bison skimming under the clouds.”

“If they’re manned,” Asami said, sitting beside Kuvira to look at the map. “Or still standing.”

“But we can just fly in?” Korra asked. “The palace is at the center of the Upper Ring, it would take hours to get there on foot.”

“The army garrisons in the city do have anti-air measures, but they’re designed as emplaced theater defense against airships, not a bison. And if the whole city’s gone dark, who knows what’s going to be functioning or not. Either way, a precision insertion on Pepper shouldn’t be a problem. Hopefully.”

Korra scanned the map, tapping idly on a plaza in the Middle Ring. “Do you know where there are any theaters, places for dance recitals? I promised Mako we’d look for Jinora and her group.”

“There’s the Penghao,” Kuvira said, pointing it out on a street that ran near a small river. She laid her other hand on Korra’s thigh, keeping a straight face as she squeezed and made Korra bite her lip. “It’s one of the oldest theaters in the city. Mom always talked about wanting to do a show there. If the Kyoshi Warriors were giving a recital, it’d be at the Penghao.”

“Okay, that’s not too far out of our way.” Korra folded up the map while Kuvira quietly slipped her bottle of baijiu from her bag. “You still have that?”

“I know, I thought I was going to finish it off right after we left Zaofu. Never got around to it. But now…we could be walking into hell tomorrow,” she said before taking a quick belt of the baijiu and wincing slightly at the sting in her throat. “Might as well make the most of tonight.”

She passed the bottle between Asami, Korra and herself as their campfire died down. Pepper’s snores were surprisingly entertaining after another third of the baijiu was gone, Korra thought. They managed to get the rest of the story about Mako and the shock glove out of a thoroughly red-faced Asami, but as the night wore on they became quieter, and Kuvira in particular said less and less as their surroundings grew darker. The moon hung high overhead by the time the dwindling remains of the baijiu sat forgotten near their feet.

“Are you all right?” Asami finally asked. Korra slipped her hand under Kuvira’s and leaned against her, relishing the pleasant warmth beneath her tunic on the cool desert night.

“Never better,” Kuvira said, rather unconvincingly. They both looked at her, and Kuvira wilted under their gazes. “I’m just fine. I’m…”

Her small smile wavered as she ran her hand through her hair. “I thought I got to a place where hearing things about my father wouldn’t rattle me. I haven’t even thought about him in almost a year before this last week, and now it’s become a huge deal.”

“No one expects you to be totally above all of this,” Korra said as Asami tentatively placed a hand on her back. “And for what it’s worth, you reacted to the whole you’re-actually-royalty thing better than me. I threw up.”

Kuvira laughed weakly. “That’s right, you’re the crown princess of the Southern Water Tribe. I guess the Avatar title usually supersedes everything else.”

“Yeah. So it’s…it’s a big shock for a while, but it starts being normal pretty fast. Su and Baatar knew and didn’t treat you any differently because of it. And Su said you were what, fourteenth in line for the throne?”

“As far as she knows. I’ve tried sounding it out in my head to distract myself from flying. Princess Kuvira. Ugh. I know ‘Lieutenant Governor’ doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, but at least I could feel like I earned that. It was a sinecure, but it meant something to me.”

Both Korra and Asami let her speak, trading brief glances with each other as Kuvira continued. “I spent so many years being angry at my father. Wondering why he didn’t want me. Wondering what I did wrong. And not even Mom knew what that was.”

She laced her fingers up with Korra’s, drawing an impassive glance from Asami. “I messed up all my pillows with crying every night, and every day I was scared out of my mind that Su and Baatar would just dump me somewhere else if I did anything else wrong. I tried to be perfect for them, and I was terrified every single time I screwed up. I’m still afraid when I screw up.”

Her voice was small and plaintive, a far cry from her usual cool, commanding tone. “It took me so long to let them love me, so long to stop asking myself all the time why my father abandoned me. I figured if he didn’t want to care about me, I didn’t want to care about him. I wanted to be the daughter he didn’t deserve instead.”

“He missed out,” Korra said, squeezing Kuvira’s hand. She smiled.

“Thanks. Sorry about throwing all the heavy stuff at you.”

Asami rolled her neck and leaned forward on her little earthen seat. “No, I know what you mean, being mad at your father. I knew my dad’s company was the reason we were rich, and that’s why we were robbed. That’s why burglars killed my mother. Might’ve been a silly thought process, but I was six. And then he got distant for years, when I needed him the most. A big part of why I joined with the Equalists was to make him happy.”

She nodded, happy to forget her own woes for a moment. “No one screws you up worse than your parents.”

They shared a quick laugh before looking guiltily at Korra. She shrugged. “It’s okay. ‘No one screws you up worse than your crazy anarchist kidnappers’ doesn’t have the same ring to it. I get the humor anyway.”

Kuvira pushed up against her, lips brushing on the side of Korra’s neck. “You know why I like you?” she asked, her voice cool and husky once more. “You don’t make me worry about being perfect. You make me feel okay being me.”

She cupped Korra’s cheeks and kissed her gently, bumping their noses together and following slightly when Korra pulled back. “Ah, wait…”

“Oh.” Kuvira glanced back to where Asami sat, breathing heavily as she watched them. Her hand rested over her stomach, and she gripped at her undershirt as Kuvira turned around to face her. “I wouldn’t want to be left out, either.”

Asami’s eyes went wide as Kuvira grabbed her shirt and pulled her into a deep kiss. Korra gasped, biting her lip while arousal flared up like wildfire between her legs. After a moment Asami jerked back, leaving a thin trail of saliva hanging between their lips. Her whole face was a bright red in the low light.

“What—”

“Like I said, I want to make the most of tonight,” Kuvira said, putting a lock of Asami’s hair behind her ear. “I still owe Korra from the other morning, but I don’t think she’d mind if you joined in. I certainly wouldn’t.”

All Korra minded was that her pants were still on, and she nodded furiously as she fumbled with her belt. She didn’t dare pinch herself to see if she was asleep, because if she was she didn’t want to wake up. Asami hesitated for a moment, looking at both of them in turn, before tentatively leaning forward and kissing Kuvira.

It was all the prompting she needed. Kuvira pulled her down onto their bedrolls, grabbing Korra as she did. She straddled Asami and bit lightly at her neck while Korra inched over and slowly kissed her. The feel of Asami’s lips was pleasantly familiar, soft and sweet and tasting faintly of baijiu. Warmth rushed through Korra and threatened to burst when Kuvira slipped a hand under her shirt, fingers running over the scars and hard muscle of her abdomen.

Korra moaned and broke her kiss to let Kuvira strip off both her and Asami’s shirts before discarding her own, ripping through her chest wraps with ease and letting them fall away. She heard the _snap_ of Asami’s bra clasp while Kuvira loosened her wraps, leaving them all exposed from the waist up.

Kissing two people at once was odd, Korra thought, but she quickly got used to the feeling. She rolled her hips and wriggled out of her pants while Kuvira nipped at Asami’s collarbone. Watching them run their hands over each other, panting and sweating, Korra thought she would feel jealous, but instead all she felt was mounting, excited anticipation. Her inner thighs were soaked by the time she kicked her pants away, and the strangely thrilling scent of her own arousal filled their crude shelter.

“Well,” Kuvira said, tugging off Asami’s pants and tossing them aside. “Someone’s eager.”

All Korra could do was nod as they turned their attention on her. Kuvira propped her up into a sitting position, her breasts pressing into Korra’s back as they faced Asami. One of her hands laced up with Korra’s and traced down her stomach, provoking a shiver as they drifted between her legs with Asami watching. She sat up opposite them, pushing her panties aside as their hands began moving slowly up and down.

“Look how wet you’ve gotten her,” Kuvira murmured, kissing Korra’s neck. The question of who she was addressing faded into unimportance as she guided their fingers over Korra’s clit, gliding slowly, almost languorously up and down. Warm pressure welled up in her core, rising and falling at the whims of Kuvira’s rhythm. Asami took quick, shallow breaths while she touched herself, whimpering and shaking as they watched one another. “You’re both so beautiful.”

Asami’s cried out as she plunged two fingers into herself, hips rolling as she began to pick up her pace. The soft, smooth muscle in her stomach tensed up, leaving her to shudder furiously through her first orgasm. She hunched forward with a deep breath, and a fine, sticky spray of arousal hit Korra’s leg. Her spicy scent mingled with Korra’s own, heady in its thickness. As much as she wanted to speed up and break through that last wall of pleasure, their fingers worked at the same steady pace, fast enough to keep her hips bucking but not so quick that she went careening over the edge.

“Please, Kuvira…”

“Maybe Asami can help us.”

She took their hands away, leaving a dull ache in the absence of stimulation, and nudged a blissful Asami with her foot. She shifted and laid on her stomach, kissing along Korra’s thighs with one hand still between her own legs while Kuvira rested Korra down on her back. Kuvira’s pants disappeared into a pile with the others before she threw one leg over and straddled Korra’s face. She looked up and clasped Kuvira’s hips, admiring the new view of her hard muscle and taking in the scent of her arousal as she flitted her tongue over Kuvira’s clit. Her arousal had a sharp, intoxicating taste to it, complex and delicious all at once, and Korra eagerly lapped it up.

“Ah, that’s good, Korra, so good…a little harder, I won’t break,” she said, grabbing a handful of Korra’s hair and slowly rocking her hips from side to side. “F-fuck, Korra…”

Her words dissolved into moans, making the ground beneath their bedrolls tremble. Asami finally hit home, bringing her tongue up along Korra’s slit and tasting the arousal there. It made her whimper and roll her hips up into Asami’s soft, gentle mouth. The wiry black hair between Kuvira’s legs brushed at Korra’s nose, slick with excitement. Pleasure jolted through her body, making her sweat and squirm with anticipation.

“Good—ah!”

Panting heavily, Kuvira grabbed the sides of Korra’s head and held her still, bucking her hips back and forth. Arousal soaked Korra’s face, warm and sweet. She lost her grip after a moment, and whatever she tried to say dissolved into incoherence as she pressed her legs together around Korra. Kuvira threw her head back and balled her hands into fists, trembling so violently that everything around them shook. The vibration and Asami’s tongue finally set Korra over the edge, flooding herself with so much stimulation that her eyes and scars briefly glowed white.

Still quivering through her aftershocks, Kuvira managed to settle herself in beside Korra, kissing her lightly while Asami crawled up into Korra’s other side. Everything was quiet except for the crackle of the fire and their panting, as they wondered absently if they had really just done that. Soon Asami and Kuvira’s breathing leveled off to the calm rhythms of sleep, and Korra snuffed out the fire before joining them, utterly exhausted, utterly satisfied.

⁂

When Korra awoke, it was with two arms wrapped around her. She kept her eyes closed for a moment and enjoyed the warmth of Kuvira and Asami’s bodies on either side of her, loving the feeling of their hands intertwined atop her chest. _Okay, that really happened…_

She had a slight headache from all the baijiu, but Korra was fairly certain that the whining she was hearing was not a result of being hung over. There was an odd smell, too—cinder, maybe. And it seemed rather dark for morning. She was still too groggy to tell. After a few moments she opened her eyes and looked over Asami’s leg at the fire pit, still sitting extinguished.

Reluctantly, Korra sat up, rustling their pushed-together bedrolls enough to rouse the others. Asami rolled onto her back and looked at them both with a deep blush. “We never speak of this again.”

“But can we _do_ it again?” Kuvira asked, giving them a plainly hungry look. “I’ve never come so hard in my life…hey, do you smell that?”

Korra stood on unsteady legs and stepped out of their shelter. “Pepper—ack!”

Something bitter and diffuse caught in her mouth, doubling her over in a fit of coughing. Their bison was covered in soot, whining as he tried to shake his fur clean. Korra sent a rush of air his way to clear the fur on his head before she looked around. The sun was masked by a black cloud, and more soot was falling every minute on a steady wind from the northeast. Some landed on Korra, black and flaky on her skin. Cinder.

Kuvira and Asami stepped out of their shelter with hastily-donned clothing. “Ash,” Asami said, covering her mouth.

“What in the world…” Kuvira brushed some from her bare feet, only to have more soot fall in its place. “Where’d it all come from?”

“Ba Sing Se,” Korra said. “It’s burning.”


	25. City of Walls and Secrets

Long bars of sunlight filtered into the airship, and with the dawn Mako slipped from restless sleep and into pain. The image of snapping, snarling jaws jolted him upright, sending a rush of dizziness to his head. His breathing was slow and ragged as he looked down at his body. His chest was bare, and scratchy gauze covered his left forearm. Blood spotted through the bandages. Dark, stale blood.

He realized he was in the airship’s infirmary, squeezed onto a little cot in the corner that was definitely not made for someone his height. Mako turned and got his feet to the floor, taking his first unsteady steps toward the exit, but the door opened before he could get there. Su stepped in with fresh sheets, looking impassively at him, and Mako wondered for a moment where his shirt had gotten to.

And then Su slapped him.

Her palm sang across his cheek, weighted down with the metal wristbands she always wore. There was a loud, sharp _crack_ , and Mako backed away while grabbing at his face.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” she asked, taking another step toward him. Her voice was raw and choked with worry, barely restrained behind her politician’s façade. Small beads of moisture hung precariously around her eyes.

“I think you knocked a filling loose…”

Su punched his undamaged arm and then fell against him, half-hugging and half-clawing at his back. Her breaths were quick and uneven, and she shook as he returned her hug.

“You don’t go and try to be a big damn hero,” she said, seemingly torn between continuing to hug him and going back to hitting him. “You don’t.”

“I didn’t try and do anything.” Mako gave her a pat on the head and slowly separated them. Her gaze kept slipping to his chest, and he crossed his arms over it. “I’ve just…developed a tendency to act quickly when people are in danger. No glory-seeking, honest.”

She laughed weakly. “Good. Didn’t want you expecting the keys to Zaofu or something.”

“Too bad, I was hoping for my own dome.” She smiled, taking a small step closer to him and placing one light hand on his side, her palm flush with warmth. Wind howled outside, rocking them slightly. “Um, Su?”

“Yes?”

“Who’s steering the ship?”

Without another word, Su pursed her lips and hurried out of the infirmary. Mako went to his cabin and retrieved a fresh shirt before joining her on the bridge, where he could see their approach to Republic City.

The buildings and bay gleamed as the sun broke over the mountains to the east, but something was wrong. Even from high up, everything was quiet and still, far too subdued for the morning. Mako looked down at the district they were over, and nothing moved. The only motion visible was the pair of airships approaching them.

“Did they change the police insignia in the last few months?” Su asked.

“No.” Mako took the radio handset and opened a channel. “Those are the United Forces.”

After a tense few minutes of convincing the border patrol that they were indeed a diplomatic flight, the military escorted them down to the only moorings that hadn’t been commandeered, atop the central police station. The airship’s cables shot out and latched around their anchor points before reeling in, and by the time they were close enough to lower the ramp there was a figure emerging from the stairwell. Mako tensed, but Su bent the ramp down and nearly ran out.

“Lin!”

“Su? What are you doing here?”

She seemed much more enthusiastic about throwing herself into an embrace than her sister was about receiving it, but Lin hugged her warmly after a moment, surprising Mako. He never saw her as the hugging type. The sound of his footsteps on the ramp drew her attention, and her eyes narrowed when she saw him.

“More to the point, what are you doing here with him?”

Lin brushed Su aside and walked slowly to the airship ramp, trying hard not to wince. A brace was affixed to her right leg, Mako saw, and anger at the Equalists surged in him.

“Hi, Chief. I was sorry to hear about your injury,” he said as evenly as he could, noting how unfamiliar she looked in civilian clothes. She seemed…smaller. More human. Unhappier.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you were.”

“I hope Kaede hasn’t been working you too hard.”

She clenched her jaw. “How do you know about her?”

Common sense cautioned him against explaining how he had paid for one of the Southern Water Tribe’s best healers to move to Republic City after her hospitalization. “Friend of a friend.”

That wasn’t entirely untrue—she was Kija’s second cousin once removed or some such—but Lin seemed unhappy with it all the same. “I don’t need you spying on me. Now what are you doing back here? Where’s the Avatar?”

“She and Asami went with Kuvira to Ba Sing Se,” Su said, going up to her. “It’s part of why we’re here. There may be a problem.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve got our own problems here right now, as I’m sure you saw. How did they even end up in Zaofu? Didn’t they leave to go hunt anarchists?”

“We had to return some scrolls,” Mako said.

“Lin, I’d love to bring you up to speed, but it’s important that we speak to the Council as soon as we can.”

She gave them a bitter laugh. “You’re about a week too late for that. There is no Council anymore.”

Mako felt his stomach drop. No Council meant no one to keep Lin from tossing him back in jail. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the military airships all over the city, would it?”

“Believe it or not, that’s unrelated. Anti-Equalist measures. Your brother got a mob going and replaced the Council with Tenzin as the new president, and himself as the second-in-command. And all the United Forces have done is put everyone on edge while the Equalists and your triads run amok.”

“Tenzin’s the president?” Su asked. “That…might make things easier, actually.”

“Don’t get on me about _my_ triads. I haven’t been running anything from Zaofu or the Southern Water Tribe,” Mako said indignantly. “But you know that already, because I’m sure you tapped the lines again and I never showed anyone how to rewire them. I was out of the city, paying off my debt to society the way I was told to. I’ve had two bombs go off in my face, gotten my blood bent, and a wolf tried to use my arm as a toothpick!”

He waved his bandaged forearm in front of her to emphasize his point, but then stopped and took a deep breath. Five minutes in Republic City and he could already feel himself slipping into his old ways again. “I’m here—we’re here because Korra asked us to come back. Ba Sing Se went completely dark and she asked for an army if it needs to be taken back.”

“Our army is busy right now,” Lin said. Su put a hand on her shoulder, and her scowl faded to something resembling exasperation. “You know what? You might be able to help. Both of you. Hian is the acting police chief until I’m out of this damn brace, and he wants the military gone as much as I do. It sends a bad message. Su, do you think you can convince Tenzin to divert the United Forces to standby on the border?”

“If he’s forgiven me for all the grief Kya and I used to give him,” she said with a shrug.

“And me?” Mako asked.

“You’re a little more complicated.”

Lin brought them downstairs, where Mako noticed that she had settled quite comfortably into her old role in all but name. She barked orders, signed off on forms while she walked slowly through the building, and even eked out the beginnings of a smile when some junior officers stood at attention as she passed. They went into a small, darkened antechamber that looked into an interview room through one-way glass. An officer leaned on the wall beside the door, bending one of the chair legs to be slightly shorter than the others.

“I know you’re not used to being on this side of the mirror, so I can explain if you’d like,” Lin said.

“Just do whatever it is you’re doing.”

She tapped her fingers on the glass, and the officer disappeared through the door for several minutes. “How’s Mom?” Lin asked. Su sighed.

“Same as always.”

The door opened again, and the officer dragged in a man with a long cut across his cheek and unmistakably Fire Nation features. He didn’t even get him into the chair before Mako spoke.

“Cheng?”

“All I needed to know.” Lin tapped the glass again and they took him back out, sealing the door up behind them. “That was the Equalist they arrested right before your brother staged his little coup by proxy.”

Mako cocked an eyebrow. “Then he must be delusional, because he’s a damn good firebender. He’s…done some construction work for me.”

“I don’t care about whatever extortion racket he had going for you, that’s all small time now. I think Bolin planted him in that meeting to get everyone on board with his nonsense. What I don’t know is why the triads would work for him.”

“For the same reason triads do anything,” Su said as they left the observation room. “Money.”

That seemed like a rather simplistic explanation to Mako, but he knew his interest in mounting an appreciable force against the Equalists hadn’t been a popular one. Judging by the presence of the military in the city, he wished he had spent more time spreading that interest.

“Is that all you wanted?” Mako asked.

“Not quite. I want you to find out what your brother is doing. I have an idea, but I want proof. Be subtle. Don’t interfere,” Lin said. They left the station through one of the side doors, and he saw a strangled city.

Large earthen walls had been erected in front of alleys, while soldiers and police made up nine of every ten people he saw. Everyone else hurried along, their heads down whenever they had to pass someone in uniform. Several minutes went by before he saw a running car, and the rickety old tram that trundled through the district was empty. Even the guy who sold the egg rolls that Mako liked from a cart on the corner was gone.

“This is awful,” he said as they made their way to City Hall. “The city’s going to collapse if it keeps up like this.”

“Useless, too.” Lin waved her hand north. “They bombed the naval depot the other night with a curfew in place.”

She pushed past the soldiers on the City Hall steps and ushered them inside. The monument to the elements in the rotunda had been removed—security risk, Lin explained—and she brought them into what had been the Council chamber. A guard tried to stop them, but a withering glare from Lin cowed him. Nothing looked all that different, Mako thought, except that Tenzin was at the center of the main table and he seemed much more haggard. They turned their attention to them when the door swung shut.

“I think that’s everything for now, thank you,” Tenzin said. He stood, the others following suit, and everyone but him and Bolin filed out to their offices. Su hurried ahead of her sister while Mako stuck beside her.

“So I don’t see you for a few months and you end up in charge of the United Republic?” Su asked, giving her cousin a brief hug and a peck on the cheek. “I guess congratulations are in order, Mr. President.”

“No, they really aren’t,” he said with exasperation.

Bolin grinned. “So humble. It’s good to see you again, Governor. And—Mako?”

He came down into the gallery and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Mako felt his feet lift up off the ground as Bolin leaned back. “Good to see you too, bro,” he gasped out. Bolin set him down, and he took a moment to catch his breath. “New job?”

“Desperate times, unfortunately. We’re done here, why don’t you and I get something to eat? I want to hear what it’s been like running around with the Avatar.”

Mako’s stomach growled. “That sounds good, but there’s one thing Su and I have to do first.”

“Su? Oh, the Governor. How’d you two get stuck together?”

“The girls tossed me out of their club,” Mako said, going to the center of the chamber beside Suyin. “Mr. President.”

“Mr. Han,” Tenzin said. That threw him off-kilter. No one ever used his surname. “Thank you for safely seeing Jinora to Kyoshi Island.”

“Oh, um…don’t mention it.” He wasn’t aware of Jinora’s current situation, then. “Avatar Korra asked me and Su—Governor Beifong, I mean—to bring you up to speed on what’s happening in the Earth Kingdom.”

“We lost contact with Ba Sing Se about a week ago,” Tenzin said. “The Fire Nation and the Water Tribes did as well. Were you having the same problems?”

Su nodded. “I was on the phone when all the lines went dead. We know it wasn’t an issue with our infrastructure, because calls to the other provinces went through without a problem. They couldn’t contact the capital, either. Avatar Korra and Asami went with my daughter to see what’s going on, but if there _is_ a problem—”

“And we have every reason to believe there is,” Mako said.

“The Earth Kingdom military wouldn’t be able to regain control of Ba Sing Se. They simply don’t have the manpower anymore, if more than a third of the city began rioting the whole situation would spiral out of control in a matter of days. We…we came here to ask for military aid, should it prove necessary.”

“This sounds like it could become a big problem,” Bolin said, sitting at the table beside Tenzin. “But a big Earth Kingdom problem. Surely you’ve seen that our forces are already strained. And we have an ambassador from the Earth Kingdom. She’s made no such request for any aid, military or otherwise, and you aren’t a plenipotentiary, Governor. You don’t have the authority to make that kind of request.”

For a moment Su only looked at him, blinking in incredulity. “That’s because no one in our government has been able to get a request to Ambassador Lian at the embassy here, Mr. Vice President. As far as we know, every line into and out of Ba Sing Se is dead. And our request is on behalf of Avatar Korra, not the queen.”

“We’re not asking for an invasion force, sir,” Mako said, putting his attention on Tenzin. “An infantry and engineering brigade on standby would be more than enough. I wish we had more information for you, but Korra was confident that this was going to quickly become a much bigger problem.”

Tenzin ran his hand over his head as Bolin stood up. “That’s thousands of soldiers, invasion force or not, that you want ready to jump over the border at the drop of a hat! All on the word of a single woman, and to solve a hypothetical problem that isn’t on our land. Korra sent you here on a fool’s errand, Mako.”

He clenched his fist behind his back. Bolin had no business saying that about the Avatar, Mako thought. “Our whole border is with the Earth Kingdom. If Ba Sing Se falls apart, that’s millions of refugees, not to mention the effect it would have on the surrounding provinces. How soon after do you think the rest of the country would go to pieces? I’ve seen their bandit problem firsthand, all the order and peace of the United Republic will start looking real good, real fast to them.”

Bolin drummed his fingers on the table, but had no time to reply before Mako spoke again, still keeping his focus on Tenzin. His resolve was flagging, but they needed something to push him through Bolin’s objections. _All or nothing_ , Mako thought. “Jinora’s there too, sir.”

Air rushed through the room as Tenzin shot up out of his seat. “What are you talking about?”

“I called down to Kyoshi Island before we left Zaofu. As far as they knew, the Kyoshi Warriors were in the city when it went dark. Korra was going to look for them.”

He paced back and forth, bristling. That seemed to do the trick. “Sani can liaise with the United Forces commanders and bring a force to bear. Izana will have to go to the embassy and make sure possibly sending troops into the Earth Kingdom won’t set off a firestorm.”

“I can handle the ambassador,” Bolin said, slipping his placating politician’s smile back on. “She owes me a favor, anyway. If that’s all, Mr. President.”

Mako bowed slightly before Bolin brought him out of the room and into the rotunda, nudging him along with a hand on his back. “What the hell was all that?” Mako asked, his voice barely more than a hiss. “Earth Kingdom problem? Fool’s errand? _Plenipotentiary_?”

“Do you even know what that word means—?”

“Yes I know what that word means, you’re not the only one who knows what words mean,” he said in a huff. “Why didn’t you back me up in there?”

Bolin opened his mouth to respond, but as they left the rotunda they were set upon by a small army of reporters and photographers that had assembled on the stairs of the building, much to the annoyance of the soldiers and guards nearby. He sighed good-naturedly and adjusted the lapels of his jacket. The press, however, swarmed Mako, almost blinding him with flashes from their cameras.

“Is Avatar Korra with you?”

“What’s happening in Ba Sing Se?”

“Why did you arrive in a Zaofu airship?”

Questions…Mako didn’t like reporters asking questions. “No, I don’t know, and it was what we had.”

“No more questions,” Bolin said, guiding them through the crowd. “Come on, let’s go to Narook’s. The soldiers won’t bother us.”

Some of the reporters followed them for about half a block, still firing questions until they subsided. Parts of the city seemed to be picking up, with people filling the sidewalks and streetcars, but everything was quiet. There were no loud conversations, no children weaving in and out in a game of tag, no bustle, no liveliness. “This isn’t the city I remember.”

“You’ve been gone for months,” Bolin said as they made their way down the street. “Things have changed.”

“You’re telling me. Now what in the world were you doing in there?”

“Mako, I would have liked nothing more than to give you the whole regiment that’s in the city right now. The press is already ripping into Tenzin over them being here. But we have to think about the United Republic first. I don’t want Ba Sing Se to go up in flames any more than you do, and you’re right about the effects it would have. Ambassador Lian will feel the same way, I’m sure. But there’s a right way to do this and a wrong way. I only want to see that we do this the right way.”

“With you saving the day with your negotiations,” Mako said as they stepped into the restaurant.

Bolin rolled his eyes before calling over a waiter. He sat down at their table across from his brother. “You make it sound so dirty. Tenzin making snap decisions isn’t going to endear this new administration to the city.”

“Yeah, and don’t think we’re not going to talk about that,” Mako said under his breath.

“This way, everyone gets what they want. Honestly, bro, that’s the way politics works. You’ve been spending too much time with the Avatar.”

Their food came after a few minutes, and Mako picked at his noodles while Bolin did most of the talking, managing in some strange way to say very little. Mako nodded at the appropriate times and even looked interested, but his thoughts were far away. His task from Lin hung heavy on his mind, and Su drifted, not entirely unwelcome, into his thoughts as he ate. Beifongs were going to be the death of him. Mako shook his head clear and turned his attention back to his brother. _What are you playing at, Bolin?_


	26. Long Live the Queen

Flying through an ash storm turned out to be a singularly unpleasant experience, as Korra learned firsthand while at Pepper’s reins. After breaking down their camp and dressing so fast she still had her shirt on inside-out underneath her armor, her biggest challenge was not only getting their bison in the air, but steering him into the raining soot. Korra finally had to create a swirling pocket of air that covered his head and the saddle to get him going in the right direction, and then only reluctantly. There had also been no small promise of treats to coax him along with a minimum of grumbling.

She brought them lower, hoping not to overshoot the approach to the city Kuvira had described. Visibility outside of their air pocket was limited and only worsened as they continued northeast. It told her that her original guess about Ba Sing Se being the origin had been right, but the knowledge only produced a knot in her stomach.

After another check of the compass—a moot point she did only out of habit—Korra glanced back into the saddle. Kuvira still had the side in a death grip with one hand, but used the other to hold down the map while she and Asami studied it. They were getting along, at least.

“Hold on, I’m going down more,” she yelled back over the rush of the wind. Pepper whined at the snap of the reins, but he descended all the same. They broke through a thick layer of ash, and all Korra could see was fire.

Sickly red veins of lava snaked through what was left of the Outer Wall like corruption, and a massive wedge of it had crumbled entirely. More lava gnawed at the base of the wall, leaving the huge stones to groan and slide against one another while flames broke out around them. Farther inside, closer to the Inner Wall, all the crop fields they could see had been burned to cinders. The small parts of the sky not choked with black ash ran red under the late morning sun.

Kuvira and Asami got to the front of the saddle, looking on in horror with Korra as they swept over the destruction. The land was all scar and gore, bleeding and dying before their eyes.

“The whole city will collapse if that lava eats up enough of the ground.” Asami ran her hand through her hair. “Which one of them did this?”

“Ghazan,” Korra said, steering Pepper away from a column of smoke rising out of the ashes of a grazing pasture. None of the livestock within view were moving. They began approaching a large industrial building, half-burned with fire readily consuming the rest. Kuvira reached over the front of the saddle and yanked the reins out of Korra’s hand, pulling frantically to the left.

“Don’t go that way,” she said, trying not to look down. “That’s a gas refinery—”

The shockwave hit Korra before she heard it. Searing light and heat hit her in a blast, forcing her eyes shut and sending pain ripping through her scars. The sound followed an instant later, booming out and rattling her whole body as if thunder had cracked open the sky. Pepper reared away, but not fast enough, and overcorrected. The pull on the reins was suddenly gone, as was Kuvira. Korra swore, threw the reins back to Asami, and dove off Pepper’s neck.

Falling was still such a strange thing, Korra thought. Ignoring the unpleasant feeling of her stomach leaping up into her throat, she picked out a tumbling Kuvira through the sting of ash in her eyes. The metal on her armor caught light from the fires around them, providing a dazzling beacon to aim for, but the ground was coming up too fast to close the distance properly. Korra whipped the coils on her hip out and reeled in Kuvira before turning over and forcing her legs straight out.

What was left of the grass below her feet burned away as fire rushed from underneath Korra’s boots, breaking their fall enough to leave only a sharp shock running up her spine. Kuvira collapsed in her arms, shaking and coughing up ash while her hands grasped at Korra’s back.

“I’ve done that before, believe it or not,” Korra said, trying to bring her out of her panic. The ground shook, and Pepper lumbered over to them while Asami tried in vain to control him. Korra kissed the top of her head, fighting the urge to spit out the soot there. “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

“I hate flying.”

Another tank in the refinery exploded, briefly bathing them all in heat and light. “Come on Kuvira, we can’t stay here. The whole area is going up in flames. We have to get to the Upper Ring.”

She nodded and reluctantly climbed back into the saddle with Korra, lashing herself to the side with her own coils. “Want to give me some notice next time you throw the reins at me?” Asami asked, getting them back into the air. “We almost went into the wall.”

“You needed practice flying Pepper,” Korra said, still jumpy from the adrenaline. Her stomach dropped back out of her throat as they ascended and another section of the Outer Wall collapsed in a storm of noise and dust. The remains of a fallen watchtower lay at the base of the next wall, where another wedge had been melted away. “Just keep following this street, don’t bother changing course until we get to the Upper Ring. Everything to the sides is a distraction.”

“How do you know?” Asami asked.

Korra sat back, protectively holding Kuvira’s arm. “Because it’s what I’d do.”

Huge blocks of the Lower Ring were wooden shanties and had burned completely to the ground by the time they flew over. The parts of the slums that were made of stone had fires coming through the windows, and rioters choked the filthy, narrow streets. A piece of rotten fruit came careening up toward Pepper, but Asami blew it away.

“This didn’t happen overnight,” Korra said, looking over Pepper’s side. Somehow the thought managed to make her feel better and worse all at once. “The fires might have, but this was a powder keg already. Ghazan just walked in and lit a match.”

Carefully, slowly, Kuvira unbound herself from the saddle so she could move to the front. “I doubt he even had to do that. The Queen’s not very popular.”

The tram lines into the Middle Ring were melted and derailed, while the wall they passed through had bonfires on the top. Less of the district was burned than the slums, but the ruins of buildings still cut along the streets like long, charred scars. The fires there were burning lower, darker. Older. An airship hull sunk slowly into a pool of lava eating away at a barracks. Heat and the stench of melting metal dogged them as they pushed deeper into the city.

As bad as the rest of the city had been, most of the Upper Ring was little more than ash and cinder. Freshly stoked fires ripped through whatever buildings still stood, and small footbridges that crossed the various manmade rivers laid in pieces. The destruction had been slow, methodical, and near-total. It was the target all along, Korra thought. Blasting charges for mining had taken down large portions of the wall, and lava flows throwing off plumes of smoke worked at the rest.

“Pull left here,” Kuvira said, motioning to the next district over. “The Penghao is—maybe was—that way.”

Pepper descended until they were skirting the tops of the buildings that still stood. Korra skimmed water from the decorative rivers and dropped it on the fires they passed, but they were still too far up for her to exercise much control. Finally Kuvira pointed out a building that was mercifully mostly intact, apart from the collapsed main entrance. Pepper came down on the roof, and after a moment a door opened to reveal a very angry young woman in white and red face paint brandishing a black sword.

“Hey, who’s—Korra?”

“Jinora?”

She hopped down from Pepper’s saddle and walked over. Jinora slid her sword back into its sheath on her belt, and Korra swept her up in a tight hug. “Man, am I glad to see you,” she said, placing her back on the ground. “Nice sword.”

“Thunderbolt iron,” Jinora said, unsheathing it a quarter of the way to show off the blade. “My great-uncle made it years ago. But what are you doing here, how did you find us?”

“Mako. Turns out he’s good for something.”

Her blush showed a bit through the white face paint. “Oh, is…is Mako here with you?”

Jinora looked past Korra, where Kuvira and Asami were dismounting, then frowned. “Mako went back to Republic City with Kuvira’s mother to get an army,” Korra said. “I just hope there’ll be a Ba Sing Se left when it gets here. He asked us to bring you back there, too. Have you been in this theater for a week?”

“More or less. We’ve been stuck in here since the riots started. The water’s starting to run low, even after we raided the concessions.”

Korra scratched at her scarred arm. “Okay, Pepper could probably fit you all, but we’re going deeper into the city. I have to stop this.”

“We can’t leave!”

“Why not?” Kuvira asked. “This whole district is a loss, the building might not stay standing much longer.”

“Because we…we were in the middle of the recital,” she admitted. “The audience is down there with us. Forty, maybe fifty people. Some more drifted in a few hours ago when the fires started. You should see who we have, actually.”

Pepper took the opportunity to lie down while Jinora led them into the stairwell and the network of catwalks that ran above the auditorium. The rest of the Kyoshi Warriors were sitting on the stage near a few injured people lying on rough white sheets. Their audience was strewn about the seats, some huddled in groups, some laying in the aisles to steal a few minutes of sleep. The dinner jackets and gowns of their outfits were caked in dirt and dust, with rips along the seams.

“What a mess,” Asami said, waiting for the ladder down to the stage to clear.

“Yeah. We don’t know what to do with them. I guess we’re the closest thing they have to a military right now. Come on, this way.”

Some of the refugees looked up as they crossed the stage, watching them with sunken, frightened eyes. Pepper couldn’t evacuate them all, and even if he could, Korra knew there was nowhere for them to go. Not with half the city in flames.

Jinora brought them to a hallway backstage, lined with several thrown-open doors and picked-over rooms. One door was still closed, and a supremely uninterested Suki leaned against it, half of her face paint smudged away. She turned a lazy glance on them, but brightened up when she saw who was with her cousin.

“Avatar Korra! Kuvira! Umm…”

“Asami,” the last woman said dryly.

“Right! How’d you get here? _Why_ are you here? Is the Zaofu militia with you?”

“Flying bison, to stop the city from melting into the ground, and no,” Korra said. Suki and Jinora tensed up and exchanged nervous looks. “I’m sorry. There’s no cavalry coming right now. It’s just us until Mako and Su can get the United Forces here, and I have to stop that lavabender from demolishing any more of the city.”

“Lavabender? You can’t bend lava,” Suki said. Korra clenched her fist and made the wall opposite Suki hiss and bubble with red before cooling it down again. “That’s not fair, you’re the Avatar.”

“Believe me, I would love to be the only one who can do that, but I’m not. There’s more lava out there, eating away at everything. I really need to go and see what’s left of the government, so what did you want us to see in here, Jinora?”

“What’s left of the government.” She nodded to the door that Suki stood in front of. “The king’s in there. Came stumbling in this morning after the fires started.”

Kuvira furrowed her brow. “We have a queen.”

“Had,” Suki corrected. “You didn’t tell them?”

She unlocked the door and held it open as the three of them went inside. It was a modest dressing room that had also been picked over for anything of value. The high, long window on the wall showed a thin slit of more smoke and the red sky beyond. Someone yelped as they came in, and Korra turned her attention on a short, slender man with olive skin, clutching a crown of rose gold with interweaving strands of silver and onyx throughout.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice small and vanishing. “Who let you in? Suki!”

“Wait a minute. I know who you are,” Kuvira said, stepping forward to take a closer look in the poor lighting. “Prince Wu?”

“King Wu,” he insisted, thrusting the crown forward. “Are you my new bodyguards?”

“No,” they all said in unison.

“Then who are you? No one was supposed to come in here.”

Kuvira pointed to each of them in turn. “Avatar Korra, Asami Sato, Kuvira Beifong. I’m your…second cousin, I guess.” She suppressed a shudder at the thought.

“The one from Zaofu?”

“That’s me. What happened? How did you end up here?”

“Everyone was at the palace last night,” he said. “The Dai Li kept us inside while the military stopped the demonstrations.”

Asami looked at him, incredulous. “You mean riots. They’re still tearing the city apart.”

“I didn’t know anything about any riots, I just went to my room and went to bed. Anyway, there was a lot of fighting around dawn. I didn’t see what happened, I only heard it. And then I felt it. Everything got really hot, way more than it should even in the summer. There were fires in the hall, and—and lava. Can you imagine? Lava in the palace? I got to the throne room, and the queen, she was…she was about a head shorter than I remember her.”

“Fuck,” Kuvira breathed, holding her hands to the sides of her head. “We’re too late.”

His eyes were glassed over, Korra saw as she got closer to him. Still in shock. “And then?”

“The crown was still there. The real crown, not her headdress. I picked it up and looked around the palace, but I couldn’t find anyone else. Parts of the walls were falling down and I couldn’t get to some of the wings, but everywhere I went was empty. After a few hours I looked for the largest building that was still standing, and here I am.”

The implication of his words seemed to hit him as he spoke, and his shoulders slumped. Korra felt torn. Her inclination was toward compassion for the young man with his world quickly falling to pieces around him, but a darkly persistent part of her only saw the crown held loosely in his hand. It wanted nothing more than to twist and shatter the symbol, melt it into uselessness, bury it in a storm of blood and red lotus petals.

A sharp pain surged behind her eyes as Korra pushed the thoughts away. She pinched the bridge of her nose, and Asami put a hand on her shoulder while Kuvira sat down beside Wu. “There’s really no one left but you and me?” she asked, tugging lightly on her braid.

“Yin is serving in the United Forces, but that disqualifies her from any actual position here, and Hiei is on Whaletail Island with her mother, but she’s eleven and even farther down the line than you are. As far as Ba Sing Se goes, it’s just us,” he said, letting it sink in for himself as much as her.

Kuvira nodded, but straightened up and grabbed him by the shoulders. “What about Prince Zhu?”

“Ah, easy! He died six years ago when his boat sunk, what about him?”

She let go of his jacket, her expression slipping into one that Korra recognized. A mask, a brave face of calm to fight the tempest underneath the surface. It wasn’t any healthier than the ways Korra suppressed things when the situation demanded it, only more noticeable.

“Oh,” Wu said, inching back from her. “He was your…I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

“It’s fine,” she lied. “Do you even want to be king?”

Korra pricked up. She glanced at Asami, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“Well, judging by the track record I’ve just seen, not particularly. Seems like it’d interfere with my singing, too.”

“Right,” Kuvira said, forcing a smile. “Well. That can get settled once my friends and I put a stop to whatever’s going on at the palace.”

A new look of fear spread on his face. “You mean you’re not here to rescue me?”

“Stay with Suki and the others. We’ll be back once we deal with this.”

“Here, take this with you.” He produced a small key from his jacket pocket and handed it to Kuvira. “There’s a narrow door far to the left of the main palace entrance once you’ve gone up the final approach. It’s a servants’ passage, some of us would use it to sneak out. You can take it right into the main wing, but you might run into whoever’s causing all the lava.”

She slipped the key into a pocket on her armor. “We’re counting on it.”

They left him in the dressing room, and Korra turned back on Kuvira as she shut the door behind her. “We’re going to have to talk about that.”

“You can’t seriously think he’ll be anything close to competent,” Kuvira said as they started back toward the stage. “If we can find anyone else—and I mean anyone else—fine. But if not…it isn’t as if I’m completely unfamiliar with governing.”

There was no expectance or excitement in her voice, only the dull resignation of someone running out of options. A whole host of practical reasons against what Kuvira was suggesting crossed Korra’s mind, any one of which might have been enough to dissuade her, but only the selfish ones stuck out to her. _I don’t want you to go._

“We can figure this all out later,” Korra said as they began climbing the ladder to the catwalks. “Let’s just get to the palace and take out Ghazan.”

Asami pulled Kuvira up the last few rungs. “Do we have a plan for this one?”

Korra mulled it over while they waited for an answer. By the time they returned to the roof where Jinora was scratching Pepper’s head, she had one. “The risk with the lava is too much,” she said. “He needs to die. Quickly.”

She felt their looks burning on her back, but said nothing as she jumped onto Pepper’s neck and turned to Jinora. “We’ll be back, okay? We’re going to end this.”

And then they were in the air again, keeping low to avoid the slowly settling ash. The Penghao faded and shrank into what remained of the Upper Ring, while the remains of the last wall ringing the palace stretched around them.

As with the others, a large wedge was simply gone, but where the rest of the walls had been demolished to allow free passage, a huge pool of lava burned at the base of the damage, denying passage altogether. Atop one part of the wall were several spikes shoved crudely into the stone, on which were heads in various stages of early decay. Asami retched and turned away while Korra and Kuvira looked grimly on. _There’s the rest of the royal family._

Military airships were still moored at a small airfield set slightly away from the palace proper, and the grounds themselves were oddly untouched. Large swaths of the outer palace were ablaze or nothing but cinders while the central building still stood. Even the main path was largely undamaged, save for the thin streams of lava lining it on either side.

“This is a trap,” Kuvira said as Korra set Pepper down near the airships.

“Yeah.” It was her turn to sound resigned. Asami and Kuvira climbed out of the saddle while Korra gave Pepper the last of their fruit. “Stay here for now, okay? If things get really bad, leave. Don’t wait for us. Go back to Jinora. Understand?”

Pepper growled and bumped his head against her. Korra fastened the right sleeve of her armor into place, pressing down on her scars with a jolt of pain. “Good bison.”

The grounds had an unsettling serenity to them, eerily quiet but for the hiss of melting stone and the far-off crackle of collapsing wood. Korra led them between the moored airships, desperate to pick out moving figures in the husk of the palace. There was nothing. Every small sound sent their adrenaline spiking, every flicker of light had them wheeling toward it.

A metal door flush against the palace wall was painted to imitate the sandstone around it, just where Wu had said. Korra dispensed with the key and ripped it from its hinges, tossing it aside and peering in. She let a bit of flame dance in her palm as they started inside, leading while Kuvira kept behind her and Asami brought up the rear. It was a narrow little hall with a ceiling not much taller than them and walls so close they couldn’t even walk two abreast. More, even narrower corridors, all unmarked, branched off from the main path. Some had collapsed, some had fires glowing dimly farther in, and the rest were pitch-black and silent. Flecks of blood covered the walls, with a few older spots and many fresh ones.

“How’s anyone supposed to find their way in this place?” Asami asked, stepping over a bit of debris. The metal around them gave over to wood, darkening the corridor further. The hiss and dry heat of burning oak hit them.

“They’re not,” Kuvira said. “It’s supposed to be a maze unless you already know where you’re going. The Dai Li use the tunnels to skulk around the palace and eavesdrop—”

The ceiling groaned and gave way, clattering down and forcing Asami back. Korra and Kuvira whipped around, only to see charred, smoldering wood.

“Asami!”

Korra grabbed at a beam to yank it away, but pulled her hands back and gasped when it singed her fingers and palms. She kicked at it, driving her heel hard into the wood, but it splintered only slightly, and there was plenty more.

“Don’t worry Korra, I’m okay,” she said, raising her voice to make herself audible over the remaining fires.

“Hold on, we’ll clear this mess.”

“No, there’s no time! Keep going, I’ll find another way around. Go put a stop to this.”

She wavered for a moment before kicking the beam once more. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. We’ll come back for you. Is there anything you can do with the airships outside?”

“I’ll check and see what can fly, go!”

Her footsteps faded back the way they came, and Kuvira nudged Korra back into coherence. “She’ll be okay.”

Korra knew she was right. Asami was more than capable of handling herself. It didn’t make it any easier to listen to her walk away, not after taking the first steps to salvaging their relationship. Not after…she shook her head clear. Not the time, she told herself.

“Let’s hope we’ll be so lucky,” Korra said, and they hurried on.

After a long few minutes, the corridor terminated in another metal door. Korra clenched her fist and sheared through it, tossing the pieces aside like ribbons. She shoved away the bookcase that concealed the door, and they stepped into the palace proper. The hairs on the back of Korra’s neck stood on end. Crackling sparks were the only sounds apart from their own breathing. Large, lacquered columns rose to the ceiling at regular intervals on either side of the hall, and inlaid patterns of gold and silver covered the walls.

 _All this while half the city went hungry,_ Korra thought.

There was no motion in the hall, only a vague heat from the center of the palace. Kuvira retracted one boot and slammed her bare foot into the floor, standing stock still for a moment as she waited with her eyes closed.

“Okay,” she said as she set the metal of her boot back in place. “Lots of people. None of them moving, except for one in the throne room. The ground in there, it’s…fuzzy.”

“It’s lava. We have to stick to metal in there, he’ll throw any earth back at us a whole lot hotter.”

“Can’t you do that, too?”

She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Not as well as him. I’ll cool down what I can, but we need to kill him quickly.”

“Then let’s go answer a regicide,” Kuvira said, checking the metal strips on her armor. “And Korra, if we…I mean, if we don’t—”

Korra silenced her by crashing her lips into Kuvira’s, wrapping her in a brief, crushing embrace. Their lips were chapped from the heat and their armor bumped awkwardly, but they kept together all the same. A rush of desire flowed through them, hot and cold all at once as they held each other. Kuvira ran her hands up behind Korra’s neck, keeping them pressed together until they had to break for air.

“Don’t tempt fate,” Korra said, squeezing her hand. “Come on.”

The main halls were no clearer than the service corridor, with unmarked doors and passages shooting off seemingly at random. At the same time, the path to the throne room seemed reasonably simple as long as they stayed in the largest, most ornately decorated passage that led deeper and deeper into the palace complex. The ostentation was good for something, Korra thought.

A pair of massive stone doors stood at the end of the hall, marred with scorch marks around the handles. Something rumbled in the throne room, and heat stung Kuvira’s hand as she tried to open the door. Korra ripped up a few pieces of the ground and spun them until they coalesced into a bright red disc, cutting easily through the doors and leaving even more scorch marks.

She kicked their way through, only to have another blast of heat and light hit them. Lava seeped through the new opening, driving Kuvira back while Korra reached out, slowing the fire inside until it cooled to a crackling, cindered heap on the floor.

“How do we even fight this?” Kuvira asked, coming up beside Korra.

“We cool it down. You push down that door, I’ll do this one. Now!”

They pressed on the stone, willing it off its enormous hinges. After a few seconds they gave way, leaving the doors teetering for a moment before giving them one final push.

Lava splashed as the doors hit the ground, splattering the walls and columns dotting the throne room and sending up hisses of steam where they landed. Korra jumped onto one, feeling power flow through her as she forced out a massive rush of air all over the room. It wasn’t enough to harden the boiling, bubbling pools encroaching on the floor around them, but she managed to cool the largest one once she turned her focus on it.

Kuvira rushed in behind her, standing uncomfortably on the other door that was beginning to heat up again, and scanned the room with Korra. What was presumably the rest of the former queen was slumped over against a large wood column, and several bodies with wide-brimmed black hats were piled haphazardly in one corner.

“He took out the Dai Li,” Kuvira said, her voice wavering.

“Those rock gloves heat up like you wouldn’t believe.”

The deep, gravelly voice set Korra on edge while she looked for the source. She didn’t have to look far, only to the broken remains of the throne, where he had climbed to the top of the large wooden badger mole behind it.

“Ghazan,” she said, gritting her teeth.

“Thanks for stopping by, Korra. Sorry about the mess—I’m in the middle of redecorating.”

“Not anymore,” Korra said with a snarl. “You’re done.”

“Think so? You should’ve heard the cheers when I put the queen’s head on a spike. I won’t be done until this city is dead.”

A strip of metal flew from Kuvira’s arm, whistling through the air before striking a piece of the throne Ghazan yanked up to stop it. She started a full volley of smaller sharpened strips, sending one after another in wide arcs, some high, some far to the sides. Korra fired her coils at the same time, shooting out so fast that smoke came out of the spools.

One missed the mark and struck the badger mole, while the other hit home and snared Ghazan’s wrist. She pulled hard, not enough to send him to the ground, but enough to throw him off-balance while Kuvira’s flechettes tore into his skin. Beads of blood dribbled down his body where they burrowed in, and he gave no more than a grimace as he shook off Korra’s snare, grabbed one blade and ripped it right out of his arm.

“You’re the one Aiwei talked about,” he said, throwing the flechette back. Kuvira diverted it into a column before preparing several more. “Come to die with the rest of your family, Your Highness? How disgustingly noble of you.”

She clenched her jaw. “You’ll wish you stayed in your little metal hidey-hole.”

Ghazan tore away the back of the throne and let it melt in midair, shattering as it hit the floor and forcing them back. Korra broke to the side of the room, intent on circling around him and putting her own metal in the back of his head, but lava covered all the ground behind the throne, more than she could cool with any distractions. From the entrance she could hear more metal wedging at high speed into wood and stone. She brought up some of the lava, struggling to hold it at a distance in a loose ball, but it collapsed and cooled before she could hurl it up at him. “Damn!”

“You always were a terrible lavabender,” Ghazan said, ripping control of the ball of stone from her and sending it careening into her head. Korra staggered back, blinking away the stars in her vision, and frantically brushed away a few pieces of molten rock from her armor. “No talent for it.”

She took a deep breath and thrust one arm at him, feeling the sparks jumping around along under her scars, when a dull pillar shot up and struck her in the stomach, shorting out her fire chakra. Rather than lightning, the sparks blew up in her palm, stinging the skin there and making her hold her arm protectively against her chest.

Korra felt the collapsed lava wrap around her throat and drag her back to the front of the room beside a similarly-restrained Kuvira. She gasped and sputtered, fruitlessly trying to bend the earth away while tearing at it. The stone forced her up into the air, and her eyes went wide while she kicked at nothing, trying desperately to get her fingers between the stone and her neck. “You—”

The noose tightened. She could see Kuvira struggling as well out of the corner of her eye, striking ineffectually at the stone cutting into her throat. Ghazan took what was left of the throne and fastened it around their wrists and ankles, leaving them struggling helplessly in the air.

“No one can hear you,” he said, shaking them slightly. “No one cares. No one is coming to save you. Just exhale and let go, Korra…it’ll be so much easier.”

Her head was spinning. The tips of her fingers grew cold and stiff, aching as she strained against the crude cuffs on her wrists. She tried reaching into the stone that was strangling her, grasping at the substance, at the fullness of it, but his grip was absolute. Her noose tightened again, and fear began to flood through her. The deep part of her mind that only cared about survival screamed out in protest, making her adrenaline spike and the pain of slow suffocation even more acute.

White flashed around the edges of her eyes, but small sharp rocks crashed into her chakra points and cut her off. Blood trickled down between her eyes from the one that cut into her forehead. She was dizzy. And sleepy—she forced her eyes to stay open, fought for each gasping, insufficient breath. Her hands went up over her head, pulled along by the stone like a puppet, and the sickening feeling of violation forced itself in along with the fear.

Korra turned her head as best she could until she could see Kuvira. One of her wrist cuffs was twisting until her arm looked ready to break, and tears stained her cheeks as she wrenched her body from side to side. _I’m sorry,_ Korra mouthed, but the choking relaxed the slightest bit as Ghazan turned his attention from them. She had a poor angle, but she heard rapid footsteps and saw a flow of black hair.

“The Equalist?”

Her stomach turned. _Asami._ Ghazan scoffed.

“Doesn’t matter. If you have a death wish—” He slammed one foot into the badger mole, making more lava flow out from the throne— “I’ll be happy to accommodate you!”

Korra could barely hear the bolas whipping out over the rush of blood in her ears, and she saw nothing more than a dark blur in her fading vision. It snared around Ghazan’s torso, with one end reeling up and striking him in the jaw. Bright violet sparks surged out from the bolas, and Korra’s stomach turned as she and Kuvira fell roughly to the ground. She struck an edge of the door as she landed, driving the stone noose sharply into her neck and cutting off her airflow altogether.

Asami threw one arm forward while Ghazan was still stunned, pushing a massive rush of air up at the throne and striking his ankles. His feet shot out from under him, sending Ghazan toppling off the badger mole and into the lava below. There was a brief, sharp scream, the sickening stench of burning flesh, and then nothing. Korra saw a quick flash of fire where he fell.

She wheezed, trying to force air into her lungs, while Kuvira ripped off her own restraints and ran to Korra. The cuffs and noose came off with ease, but her windpipe was still collapsed. She clawed at her throat, wordlessly opening and closing her mouth until Kuvira realized something was wrong.

“Korra, what is it? Korra! Korra!”

Her voice faded, replaced by a shrill ring in her ears as Asami knelt down beside her. Korra’s vision went hazy, and her arms felt so heavy that they fell at her sides, useless. She couldn’t even summon the strength to try and breathe. All she could do was look at them, pleading with her eyes for them to do something, anything, while they blurred and tears trickled down her face. Asami looked away and put her hand over Korra’s mouth, blasting a stream of air down her throat.

Korra’s chest heaved, filling up her lungs so fast and so fully she thought it would burst. She sputtered and coughed, sobbing as she did, while Asami held her up. Her hands ran through Korra’s hair, soft and warm on her skin. “Breathe, you’re okay now, breathe, Korra…”

⁂

The central tower of the palace was still standing by some miracle, providing a stark, visceral view of the city around it. Flames were still burning in the late afternoon sun, and a screen of black ash hung over Ba Sing Se like a cloud. Korra took a moment to catch her breath after climbing to the top, gingerly touching the bruises on her neck before joining Kuvira there.

She had reshaped the crown into an armband that fit snugly on her right arm, where the gold could catch the light more fully, but she refused any of the outfits left in the palace in favor of her usual clothes. Wu couldn’t have given her the crown any faster if it had been burning his hands. “The last airship is clear of the city,” Korra said. “They’re going to the embassy in Republic City. Jinora managed to scavenge enough supplies for Pepper from one of the barracks, too.”

Kuvira nodded and rubbed her arm, still watching the fires. “This is what they wanted? Chaos? A city ripping itself apart?”

“They think it’s the natural state of humanity,” Korra said. “And that it’s somehow better than the way we are now.”

“This isn’t better than anything. We should be putting a stop to this.” Korra started to reply, but Kuvira only nodded. “I know. We have to leave for now. We have to abandon the city.”

“It’s just the four of us here, we can’t do anything without an army.”

“All right…let’s go get it,” Kuvira said, turning to Korra. “Are you coming back once we get to Republic City?”

Her look was so expectant, so quietly pleading, that it made Korra’s stomach sink to shake her head. “I’m going to Kasai.”

“The Fire Nation capital?”

“It’s the only place they haven’t hit yet, and I can’t risk them destabilizing another country. Losing the Earth Kingdom was bad enough.” Korra glanced out at a bonfire tearing through the Upper Ring. “I can’t let this happen again. With travel I hope it won’t take longer than six weeks.”

“Right. I guess I’m making a state visit, then.”

Korra turned back to her. “You’re what?”

“I doubt what’s left of the government will let me lead the army,” she said, stepping back from the edge of the tower. “Not after losing almost the entire royal family today. And I’ll have to be alive to finally get a legislature set up. And I…”

She took Korra’s hands in hers and stepped closer, smiling weakly. There were deep bruises on her neck as well. “I can’t let you run off while I sit around at an embassy, can I?”

“Kuvira, we almost died today.”

“So you want to run off to the Fire Nation without me? Are you going to leave Mako and Asami behind, too? Don’t be so quick to play the martyr. Besides, if I have to be a queen, I’m going to pull rank here.”

Well, Korra thought, if there was no deterring her, she was hardly in a position to turn down help. She eased forward until she was kissing Kuvira, squeezing her hands while their lips moved lightly over one another.

“Then I graciously accept your help, Your Majesty.”

Kuvira groaned. “We’re going to have to talk about that…I don’t want titles to be a fight for us.”

Her choice of words produced an oddly pleasant feeling in Korra’s stomach. “There’s an _us_ now?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

A nervous uncertainty spread on her face. “Isn’t there?”

“There is, it’s just that you’re a queen.”

She shrugged. “And you’re a princess.”

“It’s not a rank thing, it’s…” Korra ran her hand through her hair. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy about it, but it’s an adjustment for me. I spent twenty years having it drilled into my head that queens and kings and anyone else with a title like that was a problem to be removed.”

“All the more reason for me not to turn into a crazy dictator,” Kuvira said, stroking Korra’s cheek. “We should go.”

They descended the tower to the main palace courtyard, where Asami and Jinora had gotten Pepper fed and saddled. Korra waited until everyone else climbed on before getting herself into the saddle. The others looked sorrowfully at the remains of the city beneath them as they sped west, while Korra gently touched her new bruises, wondering how much of herself she would have to sacrifice before it was all over.


	27. Welcome Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mako curled up under the covers, looking out the darkened window of the Beifong estate with half-closed eyes. Dawn was still some ways off, but he couldn’t tell how long exactly. He still didn’t know how Su had managed to convince Lin to let him stay there—something about him still being in custody—but the bedroom he was begrudgingly given next to Lin’s almost made him forget the scowls she threw his way the night before. Every twist and turn of his body was met with the soft touch of silk sheets, warm without overheating him. If he knew how comfortable the beds were, he would have given more thought to running away all those years ago. Her smart remarks at dinner made him consider doing it again, if only for the sheer perversity of it.

He sighed and put his hands behind his head, debating about whether or not to get up and start the day. There was a creak on one of the floorboards outside his room, and his ears pricked up at the noise. A memory of how some of his colleagues tried to assassinate him sprang to mind, but that couldn’t be right. The triads all answered to him in one way or another, and he was hardly the most appealing target in the house.

The door to the hall slid open, and Mako relaxed, sitting up as Suyin slipped into his room. The sheets fell from his shoulders, leaving his chest bare. It was a much better outcome than assassins, although still somewhat confusing in his morning stupor. “Su? Something the matter?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” she said, closing the door behind her.

“Then can it wait? I’m half-awake at best here—”

She closed the distance between them in three quick steps, and in the near-darkness he saw her nightgown, very sheer and very translucent. The mattress shifted underneath him as she sat on the side of the bed, moved her hand beneath the sheets and grabbed him. “Whoa, hey!”

“Well, this half of you is awake.”

“I’m groggy, not _dead_ ,” he said through a hiss, shuddering under her touch. She was firm without gripping too tightly, soft while her hand moved slowly, rhythmically up and down. The motion forced her to loosen her grasp to accommodate him, and Mako squirmed.

“Wow. Lin was really missing out.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

Su rolled her eyes and leaned in closer, letting her nightgown slip off one shoulder. Her hand continued up and down, making a shiver run up his spine. “I’m thanking you for bringing my scrolls back. Do I have to spell it out for you? I know you’re not that dense.”

His breaths came quick and sharp, and Su’s free hand settled on his shoulder, pulling him toward her until their lips brushed against one another. Jolts of guilty pleasure radiated out from under his stomach, and he cursed his lack of subtlety as his hips bucked. Su smirked, shifting enough so that her nightgown fell open. Her breasts nearly bumped against his chest, tempting, taunting. She took care of herself, clearly. That everybody could look so good at fifty-one, Mako thought. “Y-you’re married…”

“We have an understanding,” she said, nibbling at his lower lip and moving the bed sheets away with her foot. “You don’t have to worry about that. Just try and enjoy yourself, sweetie.”

She did away with her nightgown and swung her leg over to his other side, straddling him and pulling him into a deep kiss that he yanked back from. “No, no, no, what the hell is this? If I snuck into your room and started masturbating you—” Mako had to fight back a whimper as she squeezed him— “Lin would rip me in half!”

“You really want to _talk_ right now?” Su asked, moving her thumb clockwise against him. Mako stifled a gasp as she lowered herself further, slowly rolling her hips and caressing him with an entirely different part of her anatomy. “Fine. What can I say? I have a weakness for cute, troubled, brooding boys. And the scars aren’t working against you, either.”

“Lin is _right through there_!”

“And that doesn’t do anything for you? She’s a pretty heavy sleeper, anyway.”

“This is so fucked,” he mumbled as Su took one of his hands and laid it on her chest. She moaned and dipped down, flitting her tongue along his collarbone. It was wrong, he _knew_ it was wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop her from massaging him with the most delicate part of her body. “So, so fucked…”

“Yes, which is what I’d like to be.” Su kissed him again, gripping at his chest and rocking her hips from side to side. She was soaking wet, grinding against him as she was, and whatever resistance he had managed to call up was flagging as he ran a thumb over one nipple. “Are you going to help me or not? You can even call me Lin if you like,” she added teasingly.

Well, Mako thought, it could hardly make his issues any worse. He grabbed at the taut, supple flesh on her hips, repositioned himself, and eased her down onto him, eliciting a slow, shaky gasp as she gripped his shoulders. Su worked the rest of the way down to the hilt, breaking out in a wide grin as she hit home. Mako wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her roughly, crashing their lips together as Su’s whole body shook. He could feel himself twitching as she enveloped him, and then realized how in control she was. That was new for him. She knew what she wanted, and she was taking it. He was just along for the ride.

They were still for a moment, kissing, caressing, all too aware that Lin was in the next room as Su nibbled on his ear. Somehow, the risk did nothing to detract from the mood for Mako. They fit together too well for him to care about much else right then. Su ran a hand up into his hair as she began to move, a small “oh” escaping her lips as she rose up and eased all the way back down. Mako shuddered and brought his hands across her back, holding her tighter as she picked up her rhythm, alternating between rocking her hips back and forth and sliding up and down on him.

Each subtle change in motion brought a new surge of pleasure running through him like lightning, coursing up to settle in his chest where her fingers explored, tweaking his nipples every so often before cupping his cheeks for another kiss. His hands moved about as well, sliding over her hips, the muscle in her thighs, and finally settling below her stomach, working his thumb through the short grayed hair there and making small, soft circles over her clit. Su threw her head back and raked her nails across his chest, scratching so deep that bright red lines appeared in their wake.

She moaned, perhaps louder than she meant to, because her eyes widened and shot to the wall that the bedroom shared with Lin’s. Mako put his free hand over her mouth with such speed he worried he might hurt her, but she only grinned and bit lightly on his fingers in response. “So on top of things,” Su mumbled, putting on the lowest, softest voice she could manage. Mako could hardly take it, and started moving his hips in time with her motions, burying himself as deeply as he could with each upswing in their rhythm.

“Oohh! Oh, right there…good boy…”

Mako resented being called a boy, even endearingly, but it was a fleeting annoyance, swallowed up by the ecstasy brought on by every quick bit of contact, every buck of their hips against one another. He pulled Su toward him, his tongue flitting at her lips while he took over the motion, varying their rhythm as he eased them into a deep kiss. They stopped entirely for a moment while their tongues mingled, playfully battling for dominance, until they picked up with renewed vigor.

Back in control of things, Mako stepped up the speed of his thumb on her clit, made easier by the slowly pooling wetness there. A bead of sweat snaked down Mako’s chest, partly from the warmth, partly from the adrenaline that soared every time the bed creaked or one of them gasped a little too loudly. It was wrong. It was right. It felt too good for moral judgements right then and there.

A few minutes of skillful, sustained work paid off, and Su bit into the crook of his shoulder, really bit, so deep he thought she might draw blood, and scratched his chest as she suppressed a scream. Sweet aches sprung up in the wake of her nails, eight long lines from his collarbone to his stomach. He eased his hand away and slid it to the small of her back, keeping her in time with his thrusts as she came down.

She made a few incoherent noises as she recovered, still shivering at his touch. “I should’ve done this a month ago…”

The smell of her sweat and arousal filled the room, a heavy, sweet scent that made him buck his hips that much faster. “Hey,” he said, his voice shaky and choked. “I’m—where do you—”

“Don’t you dare pull out,” Su whispered, her breath warm on his ear. “Don’t you dare. I want all of you.”

Mako was only too happy to oblige. He grabbed her tightly around the hips and buried his face in the crook of her neck, thrusting up into her at a feverish pace. The pressure mounted, and she held him in a soft embrace, arms wrapped securely around him. “Su—”

“Come on, come for me, baby…”

It was all the prompting he needed. Mako pulled her close, as close as two people could be as he came, shuddering all the way through and listening to Su’s appreciative moans as he panted. The kisses on his neck were light, and she pitched his head up so she could reach his lips. His thoughts were hazy, and every sensation sharpened to an almost painful degree, making him hyperaware of each minute change in position. She held him as he gasped and slipped out of her, twitching and taking short, ragged breaths. “Very good, sweetie.”

“What was that?” he asked, his voice still weak.

“That was just what I needed.” Su nudged him to one side of the bed and sat next to him, wiping a bit of sweat from her arm. “And judging by how much of you I have in me, you needed it, too. I’ll be right back.”

Mako watched her pad off to the bathroom, leaving her nightgown tangled up in the bed sheets. A thousand panicked thoughts threatened to run through his head, not wanting to be a father and Lin ripping him in half chief among them, but he took a deep breath and found Su’s nightgown in the mess of silk at his feet. He folded it and set it on the nightstand, resolving not to worry any more than her. There was a bottle of sake waiting in his office he had been saving for just such an occasion, and Su was close enough to Lin that he decided to count it.

She returned as silently as she had left, pausing for a moment to strike a languid pose in the doorway and smile at the slowly rising covers over his lap. Su climbed back into bed, nuzzling into his side and draping an arm over his chest. “Firebender stamina…sorry, I’m worn out. You’ll have to wait for round two.”

“Want to tell me what that was about now?”

“Oh, honey.” Su cupped his cheek and planted another light kiss on his mouth. “You’ve been wrapped up in plots and schemes for too long. There’s no ulterior motive here. I had an itch, you scratched it, and I’d like you to keep scratching it while we have the chance. Preferably somewhere where we can make a little more noise,” she said, nodding to the wall that adjoined Lin’s room.

“Won’t she see that there are two people in here through the floor? That seismic sense thing?”

Her eyebrows went up, and she gave him one more peck on the cheek before getting out of bed and grabbing her nightgown. “I’ll see if I can get you off house arrest here,” she said, and slipped away.

⁂

Dawn followed with them as Korra, bleary-eyed, steered Pepper into the Republic City limits. Kuvira grumbled as the sunlight hit her and rolled over into Asami, while Jinora sat at the back of the saddle to meditate. She began to rethink her plan to break down their camp before sunrise to get back a bit earlier, but there was no use in changing it while they were in the air.

“I hate mornings, I hate mornings,” she muttered under her breath. Her mouth was dry and her hair was a mess, whipping into her face along the gusts that picked up around them. A fine way to look for her return, she thought. Asami yawned, leaned over the front of the saddle, and grabbed Korra’s shoulder for support. A shiver ran up her spine. “You could’ve slept a little longer.”

“Not with all that turbulence,” Asami said, carefully easing out of the saddle and settling herself beside Korra. “Besides, I wanted to see Republic City when we arrive. It’ll be good to be home again, even for a little while.”

Korra nodded, watching the plains below them turn to hills, and then mountains. “What’s the matter?”

“Just thinking about what you said. ‘It’ll be good to be home.’ I wonder if I’m ever going to feel like that.”

“Oh, Korra…”

“My house blew up, and all the memories of that place are ruined now, anyway,” she said, adjusting her grip on the reins. “And I know we were only at the Southern Water Tribe for a week, but that didn’t feel like home, either. There were things I remembered, sure. And everyone went out of their way to make me feel welcomed and loved. It seemed like all the things you need for a home were there, but it didn’t work. I still felt like an outsider.”

“You were still reeling from everything that happened in Republic City. We both were. I’m sure you’ll feel differently without the Red Lotus hanging over your head.”

“But what if I don’t? What if I can’t?” Korra looked glumly at her bare right arm. The lines snaking along her skin continued with their dull ache as they always did, though the pain was becoming less severe as the days went on. “What if I really am damaged beyond repair? Nothing but scar tissue? What if they ruined me?”

She felt tears pricking at her eyes when Asami took hold of her wrist and held it up. “Scars fade. Look. These lines were all white when we left Republic City, and now they’re going back to your natural skin tone. Time is the best healer for all kinds of damage. You’re not broken, you’re the Avatar and you can get through anything.”

“As long as _someone_ believes in me, I guess.”

“Hey, don’t count the rest of us out just yet.”

They both started and turned around to see Kuvira leaning against the edge of the saddle, looking at them with her small, smirking grin. Korra felt her heart leap into her throat, but there was no annoyance or anger in Kuvira’s expression. “You’ve got a whole cheering section, remember?”

“Yeah…anyway. Republic City should be close now. You mind taking the reins? I’m about ready to pass out here.”

“Sure.” Asami shifted over while Korra climbed back into the saddle, falling onto the blessedly soft blankets they had laid out after getting underway. The haze of fatigue made her eyelids heavy, and Kuvira settling in against her back only made them heavier. She knew there was an hour or so left before they got to Republic City, and any more sleep would be welcome. Jinora cracked one eye and looked over at them, but said nothing before straightening up and slipping back into her meditation.

Korra was out as soon as she closed her eyes, falling into a restless sleep plagued by flames and red lotus petals. When she awoke, it was with a strangled gasp, and her hand shot to her throat. A cold sweat trickled down her arms, and the adrenaline coursing through her brought on the beginnings of a headache. Kuvira sat up beside her and wrapped her arms protectively around Korra’s waist. “Nightmares?”

“It’s not even that coherent,” she said, leaning into Kuvira’s side. “Why can’t I make it stop?”

“You have to be patient, too.”

“Hey, I can see the skyline!”

They turned back to where Asami pointed, and even Jinora got herself out of her lotus position to go to the front of the saddle. A few rays of sunlight following with them caught the radio masts that thrust upward from the skyscraper roofs, gleaming against the lightening sky and Yue Bay behind them. Korra’s eyes narrowed when she saw a half dozen airships with an unfamiliar insignia circling the city, and Jinora cocked her head as they flew closer.

“United Forces,” Asami said, bringing Pepper lower as they approached the outskirts. “Why are they here?”

“Can you get us around them?” Korra asked.

“There’s a blind spot behind the envelope that we never could solve.” Asami nudged Pepper even farther down. “And we’re on a bison, not a full-sized airship. We should be able to get to the Earth Kingdom embassy without a problem.”

Korra nodded. “And we’re not going to cause a big fuss, landing on their sovereign territory?”

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” Kuvira said, retrieving the crown from her bag and sliding it onto her arm. Korra rolled her eyes. “This is a diplomatic bison anyway, so the airships won’t be a problem.”

“You’re actually a huge dork, you know that?”

Her response was to kiss Korra, nibbling on her lower lip as she did. Jinora gave them a sidelong glance, but then yelped and grabbed the saddle as a gust hit them. They managed to avoid any confrontation with the airships thanks to Asami’s flying, and the city was slowly waking up when they touched down on the fenced-in roof of the Earth Kingdom embassy. Kuvira reluctantly reformed her crown into its proper shape and placed it on her head, not a moment before two guards came running from the stairwell to look for the source of the noise Pepper had made.

“Hey, you can’t—”

“Stand down,” Kuvira barked, her voice taking on its brusque, military edge. She hopped down out of the saddle, her crown catching the rising sunlight, and straightened one sleeve that had rumpled during the landing. The guards looked nervously at her crown, then to each other, and finally took a few steps back. Korra and Asami climbed down from Pepper’s back, while Jinora settled in ahead of the saddle. “Ambassador Lian. I’d like to see her. Governor Beifong as well.”

“Your Majesty,” one of the guards said, holding the door to the stairwell open for them.

Jinora cracked Pepper’s reins. “I’m going to take him back to Air Temple Island, I’ll meet up with you soon.”

Pepper only barely cleared the roof’s fence, while Korra, Kuvira and Asami followed the guards into the embassy. Korra felt another odd surge of deep-seated, fundamental wrongness, brought on by her surroundings if she had to guess. The building was old and stately, having served as a governmental sub-headquarters when the area was filled with Fire Nation colonies before it was the United Republic. She could pick out elements of the building’s original design, gold-trimmed banisters, red accents on the moldings, and most prominently the rotunda they looked down onto from the second floor walkway. Small spouts where fire had been projected along the walls were filled in with cement, but still visible.

Apart from the massive stone reception desk in the middle of the rotunda, all of the room’s furniture had been shoved to the walls in order to make room for several rows of cots. The refugees they had loaded onto Prince Wu’s airship were there, still sleeping in the makeshift shelter. Various offices branched off from the second floor hall, and Kuvira made a beeline for the one with the largest and most ornate door. “Have someone go to the ambassador’s house and get her down here, please,” she said. “This is her office?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Let her know I’ll be working out of it today. That’s all.”

They returned to the security booth while Korra and Asami followed Kuvira into the ambassador’s office. Granite and onyx inlaid with silver lined the floor and walls, while the furniture was all leather and richly varnished mahogany. Korra couldn’t help but cringe a bit at the excess, Asami nearly collapsed on one of the couches, and Kuvira planted herself behind the ambassador’s desk before picking up the phone.

“This is…fancy,” Korra said, settling on the most inoffensive word she could find.

Asami groaned and nestled deeper into the couch. “No talk. Sleep. Flying a bison is exhausting.”

Korra gave her a pat on the shoulder before sitting on the other side of the desk from Kuvira. Her voice had gone back to its usual quieter, but no less self-assured, tone. “Aunt Lin? It’s Kuvira—yes, I know what time it is, I just got into Republic City. We’re at the Earth Kingdom embassy. Is my mom there with you? We really need to talk…really? Okay, bring him too. We’ll be here, guess there’s no point in waiting for the ambassador if you get here first. Thank you.”

She dropped the handset back onto its cradle before leaning back in her chair. “I really don’t know how this is going to turn out,” Kuvira said, tugging on her braid. “My mother is no royalist.”

“Well, neither am I, and I still like you.” That garnered a weak smile, but the fear in her eyes was plain. “Come on, let’s take a walk. Get you reacquainted with solid ground. I know there’s a nice grotto in the front of the property, I walked by it a lot when I was last here.”

Kuvira smiled and allowed herself to be led out of the office to the main stairs. The rotunda was still quiet and motionless, with an air of melancholy that the refugees managed to exude even in their sleep. As they passed the security booth, Korra saw the night guards inside, still trying the ambassador’s home line. They bowed stiffly as Kuvira passed, while she paid them little mind before bending the front doors open.

The summer morning air was still and humid, hanging heavy around them as they stepped outside. A rivulet of sweat rolled down Korra’s scarred arm, and she brought Kuvira to the small garden near the front of the property, where all kinds of flowers stood sentry along the fence demarcating the line between Earth Kingdom and United Republic territory. A few people passed on the sidewalk beyond the wrought-iron bars, and cars and trucks were beginning to line the street.

With grass and dirt underfoot, Kuvira seemed to breathe a little easier, and she sighed deeply as they sat on a covered bench that looked out onto the street. There was less space for a long walk than Korra had imagined, but their surroundings combined with not being on a bison high up in the air seemed to improve Kuvira’s disposition.

“I’m going to have to find out why there are military airships over the city,” Korra said, trying to find a comfortable position on the surprisingly stiff bench. “Unless they brought them here in preparation for sending them into the Earth Kingdom.”

“They’d be moored at the border if that were the case, not in a holding pattern over the capital.”

“Looks like I get to wring another answer out of the Council, then. Great. It was so easy the last time to get them to stop dragging their heels and do something. I hate politicians,” she muttered before remembering she had her arm around one. “Well. These politicians.”

Kuvira nodded, looking between the ground and Korra for several moments before she spoke again.

“It’s all right,” Kuvira said, lacing up one hand with Korra’s in her lap. They leaned closer, inching toward one another until their foreheads bumped together the slightest bit. “They were useless the last time I was here, too.”

She closed the distance between them, lightly at first, but then more deeply when Korra happily answered her kiss. Her taste was familiar, welcoming, eager. A welcome change from the days of anxiety. About the Earth Kingdom, about the rest of the Red Lotus running free in the Fire Nation, about stepping into a relationship neither of them were sure how to navigate…it felt good to forget about everything else for a few moments and just kiss Kuvira.

It felt so good, in fact, that Korra failed to notice the flash from camera bulbs on the sidewalk at first. The sound was unfamiliar to her, but she traced it easily enough when Kuvira pulled away with a look of horror at the road. Several reporters, working for the international sections of the newspapers if Korra had to guess, had abandoned their posts at the other embassies to congregate in front of the Earth Kingdom mission. “Are you kidding me,” Kuvira mumbled. Cameras continued to flash as reporters shouted questions at them from the other side of the fence. “Stupid, stupid, stupid…”

Korra felt her stomach turn as whatever scraps of privacy she clung to burned away like the powder in the camera bulbs. She grabbed Kuvira’s arm and led her back inside before pulling the heavy doors shut. The press corps was the only group of people Korra disliked dealing with more than politicians. Reporters didn’t have rules. The night guards jumped to attention as they passed, noticing the tears brimming in Kuvira’s eyes.

“Your Majesty—?”

“No press,” Korra said firmly before following her back to the ambassador’s office.

Asami only managed a muffled grumble when Korra closed the office door behind them. Kuvira sank behind the desk, grabbing hold of the metal grommets on the window curtains and bending them shut. Asami gave a more pleased grumble at that. Korra went to the window and cracked one side of the curtains, if only to look contemptuously at the press and the guards trying in vain to usher them away.

“We could’ve grabbed the cameras,” she said, dropping the curtain back into place. “There’s metal in them, after all.”

“I doubt that would have gone over very well.” Kuvira held her head in her hands, elbows propped up on the desk. “I’m sorry. We wanted to keep all this subtle and now…that’s out the window.”

Korra put a hand on her shoulder, which did nothing to stop her trembling. “Hey, come on, it’s going to be all right. This was going to get out sooner or later. So they caught us. At least now there’s only one awkward conversation to have with your mom, right?”

“Caught you doing what?” Asami asked, pulling herself into a sitting position.

“Making out,” Korra said sheepishly.

“Oh.” Asami bit her lip as her expression fell.

“Asami—”

She didn’t wait to hear the rest of what Kuvira had to say before slipping out of the office. Korra wanted to go after her, but she felt rooted in place behind the desk. “Great,” she said. “Look, we don’t have to talk to the press, we can work the Council and then head to the Fire Nation.”

Kuvira shook her head. “Reporters take silence as an opportunity to make things up, especially with politics. Whatever it takes to sell papers. And we need to tell people about what happened in the Earth Kingdom, anyway. Otherwise they might think I staged a coup.”

“Okay, we’ll talk about that. Make an appeal for aid, try and get the Council to come around to it if Mako and Su didn’t already. It might even be enough to make them not care about our relationship.”

“You don’t read a lot of newspapers, do you?” Kuvira scoffed despite herself. “We’re just lucky we’re leaving soon.”

She nodded, setting the crown slightly straighter on Kuvira’s head. Korra wiped a tear from the side of her eye, and that made her smile. “You know, it doesn’t look half bad on you. I don’t even like crowns that much, and that’s not my inner anarchist talking.”

“It’s a lot heavier than it looks.”

Korra didn’t have time to ask whether she meant that literally or figuratively before the office door swung open and Su, Lin, and Mako walked in. Asami followed reluctantly behind them, arms crossed as she leaned against the door frame. _This place has terrible security,_ Korra thought.

“Aunt Lin! Mom!”

Kuvira actually leapt over the desk, vaulting so abruptly that she knocked over a lamp for Korra to grab before running to Su and throwing her arms around her mother. Su was slow to return her hug, maybe from fatigue, maybe from looking at the bright gold crown adorning her head. Korra went up to Mako, who gave her a brief nod, but then she hugged him too, surprising herself as much as him. “Hey, Water Tribe.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, sweetie…what’s this?”

Her expression dropped. “Oh. Prince Wu didn’t say anything yet? What’s left of the government sort of…made me the queen.”

Mako threw his hands up as Lin and Su both looked at her in shock. “I leave for two weeks and all the interesting stuff happens.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Korra said under her breath.

“How…what…” Su sputtered.

Korra stepped up beside Kuvira. “It’s kind of a long story, you’ll hear it. How did things go with the Council? We’re going to need that army.”

“The Council was dissolved,” Mako said. Korra’s eyes narrowed. “Tenzin’s the president now. It’s my brother’s doing, he’s got some kind of puppet master thing going on from the vice presidency. I’m still trying to figure that out. We got you a brigade, though.”

Her stomach sank. She had been counting on the United Republic to at least remain stable through everything. Maybe that had been too optimistic. Words about politicians and leaders always taking opportunities to seize more power for themselves crept unbidden into her mind, like sweet poison. Korra shook her head clear and put a hand on Kuvira’s back. “That’s something good, at least. But I’m not sure if it’ll be enough. Ba Sing Se was half gone when we left.”

“Jinora?” Mako asked. She never did puzzle out whether he returned her feelings or if he saw her as a little sister to protect, but his concern was clear either way.

“She’s fine. On her way back to the temple with Pepper. The other Kyoshi Warriors took in some of the refugees, another airship went to Omashu. It’s really bad, Mako. We have to ask Tenzin for more than a single brigade.”

“I don’t know how much he’ll be willing to give up, especially now that Jinora’s safe. That…may have been how I convinced him to give up a brigade in the first place.”

“We can settle this at City Hall,” Lin said, absently playing with one of the wires coiled at her hip. “Or at least somewhere where we’re not trespassing on the Earth Kingdom.”

Kuvira shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. But yes, let’s go see what we can do.”

She walked off with her mother and aunt, while Mako and Korra followed them with Asami mumbling something about visiting her house. Lin shoved several reporters aside while they hurled questions that went unanswered. Mako glanced back at Asami, but she kept her head hung as she split from their group at the embassy gate. “What’s the matter with her? She didn’t have another I’m-actually-an-airbender attack, did she?”

“It’s complicated.” She paused to wonder if she was really about to commiserate with Mako, of all people. “Really complicated.”

“If you say so. Although I see they’re both still in one piece, so you managed to work something out?”

“Yeah.”

Mako nodded. He could be surprisingly tolerable, Korra thought, when he wanted to be. More chipper than Korra would expect at such an early hour, too. “Which one did you end up going with? I couldn’t get anyone to wager on it with me.”

Of course, he could quickly become intolerable, too. “That’s really none of your business.” _You’re going to read about it, anyway…_

“Come on, I got savaged by a wolf and still got you the soldiers you asked for,” he said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal bandages covering his forearm.

Korra poked at the gauze, making him hiss and withdraw his arm. “That almost makes us even for scars. It’s still none of your business, but since I doubt you’ll stop asking and you’re still technically in my custody…”

“Out with it, Water Tribe. I want to know who I have to be on fishhooks around.”

“Asami,” she said simply, even glumly.

“Ah. Might’ve expected that. You and Kuvira are weirdly similar, anyway. Hey, is she as toned up as you under those robes—”

“That’s all, Mako.” Korra sped up and left him to his imagination while he followed, walking with a pronounced hunch for several blocks. Lin was somehow keeping up with her sister and niece despite a large brace on her leg, and she winced with every long stride. “What happened to you?” Korra asked.

“Bomb,” she said abruptly.

“Oh. I ran into a few of those. Wait, bomb? Who’s bombing?”

“The Equalists. Sato hasn’t been here to rein them in. That’s why the army’s here, as a matter of fact. Better they go into the Earth Kingdom, though. They’re not much help here, not that Bolin and Tenzin asked the police’s opinion before rolling them in. Not as if we know the city at all.”

Bitterness soaked her voice, and Korra couldn’t help but feel for her. Their introduction had been less than stellar, if Korra was being very generous, but she was obviously a proud woman carrying an enormous amount of pain, physical and otherwise. “I can heal that for you,” Korra said, pointing loosely at her leg.

“It’s healing fine.” Lin caught the curb with her foot, causing a strangled gasp of pain. “Fine. You want to try something, be my guest. I’ll need something to do while those two go at it, anyway.”

She jerked her thumb at Su and Kuvira, who walked along in silence with such tension between them that a blade could have cut through it. Kuvira kept a proper bearing, head held high, but her expression was downcast, and Su only stared ahead, somewhere between shock and contemplation. Neither of them seemed to hear Lin, and so she turned around again. “Keep up, Mako! What’s his problem?”

“Daydreaming,” Korra said.

There was a slight fog hanging over City Hall, not to mention the soldiers sitting on the steps, ready for the night shift to end. Lin brought them into the empty rotunda and then the Council chamber, as silent and still as the rest of the building. “Where is everyone?” Kuvira asked.

“Still sleeping, probably,” Lin said, directing them to seats at the front of the gallery. “Dawn was an hour ago. And it’s the weekend. We’ll be back, my sister and I need to have a talk.”

Su left the gallery, Lin following her with a glare at Mako as she did, and Kuvira visibly relaxed. Mako glanced at them, his face tinged red. “I’ll go get my brother out of bed,” he mumbled, and left Korra and Kuvira alone in the chamber.

There was no expectant, anticipatory energy as there had been in the embassy, only the stale stagnation of an empty, too-large room. Dust covered many of the seats in the gallery, and a cobweb shone between two crystals in one of the chandeliers. For nearly a half hour, everything was silent but for their breathing and the nervous tapping of Kuvira’s feet.

“You know, I’m technically invading the United Republic right now,” she said with a false cheeriness. She was so very different when the self-assured temerity washed away, another woman just like Korra or any other. “There’s an old bylaw that makes all the ground under the monarch’s feet the temporary territory of the Earth Kingdom. It’s ancient, and the United Republic never ratified it since no king or queen ever visited, so…” She drummed her heels against the floor in a shaky rhythm. “Invading.”

“I’d offer to take you outside again, but that didn’t work so well before. What’s got you so wound up? Su?” Korra asked. “I know you didn’t get a chance to explain anything to her yet.”

“How _can_ I explain it? ‘My competition was a disqualified admiral, an eleven year-old girl, and a blathering idiot’? This was a terrible idea, it really was, I should have let Wu keep the throne and worked from the field to fix this mess. I was a sergeant, not an officer. I don’t give orders, I follow them.”

“You’ll have to, for a little while,” Korra said, clasping their hands together in her lap. “What about everything you said you wanted to do? Isn’t that worth sticking it out for?”

“Of course, but…look, having an audience gives me a bad case of nerves. I hate the limelight, and now I’m front and center. You saw what happened at the embassy. That’s not ever going to stop, and—and I don’t know how well I can deal with that. I don’t want to have to become something I’m not just to do my duty.”

Korra pulled her close, holding the frightened, shaking queen. “We’ll figure it out. You have me and Asami…and Mako, for whatever he’s worth.”

“You shouldn’t run him down so much, he’s an okay guy.” Korra shrugged and declined to mention the reason he had been so red-faced before leaving. “This is going to get a lot worse before it gets any better, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how much worse it’ll get, so I’m grateful you’re coming with me. And you know I’ll help you pull your country back from the brink. Won’t be easy, or quick…but if anyone can figure it out, it’s us. You’re the Earth Queen, Asami basically restarted an entire civilization, and I’m the Avatar.”

Kuvira laughed softly, leaning deeper into Korra’s embrace. “Did the Red Lotus make you practice giving inspiring speeches?”

She stiffened, muscles tensing as her heart raced, and Kuvira realized the nerve she had struck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, they did make me study speeches, as a matter of fact. Zaheer loves his diatribes.”

“That’s the leader?” Kuvira asked. “Zaheer?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘leader,’ that kind of goes against what they believe. The others respect him enough to follow his command. Or at least, the ones I grew up with. I have no idea if there are more of them, spread out like Aiwei was. Or other entire cells to root out. If they have a larger command structure, I never knew. I never thought about it, honestly. Weapons aren’t supposed to think,” she added, staring absently at the railing in front of her that divided the gallery from the former Council’s table.

“Given that you killed one member and helped bring about the death of another, I’d say you’re not a very good weapon,” Kuvira mumbled, treading carefully around the subject. “Like a sword without a hilt, maybe. All blade.”

“Now there’s an image I like.”

Korra dipped down for a light kiss, and no sooner had their lips met than an explosion ripped apart the silence and demolished the room around them.


	28. Vantage Point

Korra, Kuvira and Asami disappeared into the Earth Kingdom embassy as Pepper began weaving through the towers that cut across the downtown skyline. Jinora sighed and shrugged. She could have cut that tension with her sword, but she was finally on her way back to Air Temple Island, back home.

Dread threatened to worm its way in, as it had when the Equalists stormed the island looking for the Avatar, and she had to focus on the breathing exercises that Suki had taught her. Visualizing the air entering her body, spreading down to her fingers and toes before an even, deliberate exhale…it made her feel a little better. She still felt sick to her stomach if she was being honest with herself, but it had been months since she had been honest with herself about that. Jinora rested a hand slightly below her stomach, where a sharp pain was brewing. She needed tea.

Pepper pitched to the right, heading home on instinct. She didn’t even need to tug on the reins, leaving her free to look out over the city. The airships were an ominous image, hovering and looking down from on high. Why, she wondered. Her father would never have supported turning the military on their own people. Aunt Lin would have given him and the rest of the Council hell about it, at least. She turned back to the bay, and felt her hackles rise.

“Warships?”

A significant portion of the United Forces Navy sat in the harbor, making a thick, double-layered blockade against the ocean beyond. There was no other motion on the water, no barges, no fishing trawlers. Apart from the military, the city seemed dead. She picked out a cutter in the blockade line with silver trim rather than gold and a tiger shark painted on its bow.

“That’s Uncle Bumi’s ship,” she mumbled. “How could he be a part of this? What are they _doing_?”

Pepper offered no answers, only swooping low to line up with the main courtyard of the island. Her tension had rubbed off on him, and they came in too fast, clipping several treetops before skittering onto the tiles in the courtyard. She was thrown clear and slid on her side, rolling several times before coming to rest near the Bagua circle.

“Ow,” Jinora said, sitting up and rubbing her shoulder where the fabric of her shirt ripped away. Pepper came up to her and licked the side of her face, and she knew she couldn’t stay mad at him. “Well, any landing you can walk away from…”

“Stop right there!”

Three guards spilled out of her home, fire bursting from their hands. Jinora cocked an eyebrow, still rubbing her chafed shoulder. Their uniforms looked like the ones the police wore, but not quite the same. The badges they wore on their belts had a different shape, and a red chevron adorned their left sleeves. “Hey, I _live_ here, who are you?”

“Put the weapon down!”

She looked at her belt and realized she was indeed still wearing her sword, the feeling of its heft rushing back after so long spent sitting down. “Look, I don’t know who you think you are—”

“Jinora?”

Pema emerged from the house, bleary-eyed and slipping on her bathrobe. One of the guards moved protectively in front of her, but she pushed him aside, smacking his hand as she passed. “Put those away, that’s my daughter!”

They stepped back while Pema rushed over, nearly falling to her knees as she threw her arms around Jinora. She could feel her mother’s tears falling against her neck and shoulder as she returned the embrace. “Jinora…my sweet baby, you’re safe…you had us so worried! What were you thinking, running off to Ba Sing Se? And why do you have a _sword_?”

“I didn’t run off to Ba Sing Se, Mom,” Jinora said, trying to move around in Pema’s grip to breathe better. “We went there for a recital and the city fell apart around us. I mean, we guarded the Earth King for the whole eight hours when he actually was the king. Now who are the firebenders running out of the house?”

“Earth King?”

It was clear there was something of a communication issue, and both of them were too excited to get much helpful information from the other. “Can we just…go inside, please? My period is about to start and the cramps are really bad. I need some of that tea you make.”

She swept Jinora up in her arms, and though she felt some slight indignity at being carried as a seventeen year-old, it was so perversely satisfying to stick her tongue out at the guard who had yelled at her as she passed him. Never too old for a bit of vindictiveness, she supposed. “Please see to Pepper,” Pema said to them before bringing Jinora inside.

The kitchen was odd, not at all like she remembered. All the furniture had been rearranged, the doors were thicker, and platinum bars crisscrossed the windows. Pema set her down at the table and went to put a kettle on while Jinora took another look around. The soft lighting had been replaced by bright, harsh buzzing, and a conspicuous red button sat on the wall, connected to a wire that ran up to an unlit light close to the ceiling.

“Mom, what is all this? The guards, the blockade, the airships, even the kitchen looks like it got turned into a bomb shelter.”

Pema pulled up another chair and sat next to Jinora, smiling weakly and moving a lock of her daughter’s hair behind her ear. She fought the urge to put it back and hide the broken-out skin there. “A lot’s happened since you left, honey. The military’s here because of all the Equalist attacks. We’ve been safe here at the temple, but…too many people have died already.”

At the mention of Equalists, her heart rate kicked up, her throat went dry and scratchy, and her stomach dropped out. Cramps shot through her and she nodded, staying as stoic as she could. “Is that all?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice level.

“There was a vote a few weeks ago, the government’s changed since then. Dad’s the president now, hence the guards. They get a little overprotective sometimes, but that was only because they hadn’t met you yet.”

“Daddy is…what?”

“That was pretty much my reaction, too,” Pema said, getting up to drop her special blend of leaves into the kettle. “I was here with Meelo and Rohan when it happened. Ikki was at the meeting with Aunt Lin—” she paused for a moment, grinding the leaves up with her fingers much more finely than was necessary— “But it all happened so fast that she couldn’t tell me much. Even your father wasn’t really sure what happened. It was all Bolin’s—I mean, the vice president’s doing.”

She wrung her hands, leaning back in her seat. “I leave for three months and everything goes crazy.”

“And speaking of crazy, young lady,” Pema began, pointing to the sheath hanging off her belt, “I’d like to know why you have that.”

Back to being Mom, Jinora thought. She brought the sword out and laid it on the table, letting it catch the light and throw garish reflections around the room. “It’s one of the swords that Grandma’s brother made years ago. Thunderbolt iron. Suki gave it to me before we went to Ba Sing Se. It’s not like I ever used it,” she added, resting her hand on the pommel.

“Just don’t let Meelo see it. He’s still convinced he can make a blade out of air or something.”

She sheathed her sword as Pema brought a cup of tea over, her scowl reflected back at her in the dark brown liquid. “I just spent a week on Pepper with the Avatar, the Earth Queen and that Asami girl, can we maybe not talk about bending for a little bit?” Jinora asked before taking a sip of the tea. It went down bitter, but settled smoothly, and the heat helped with the cramping.

“You flew an old lady all the way to Republic City?”

“No, different queen, Aunt Su’s daughter. Korra’s girlfriend. Maybe.” She had an inkling of the truth, but she wasn’t about to try and broach that subject. Not her business, not her problem.

“Your cousin Opal is the Earth Queen?” Pema asked, cocking her head.

“No, Kuvira is her adopted daughter. Queen Kuvira. I left them at the Earth Kingdom embassy before I came here. They’re really going to need that army that Korra had Aunt Su and Mako asked for.”

The tea putting her body at ease and the mention of Mako helped calm her down. Her breathing evened out, and her heart stopped racing. She hoped she could find him at least once before Korra dragged him off to the Fire Nation to deal with the rest of the Red Lotus. “Is Dad up? He should really hear what Korra has to say, the sooner the better.”

“Well, if it gets the military out of the city…your landing woke us both up, I’ll go get him.”

Pema kissed the top of her head and left the kitchen, leaving Jinora to sip her tea. Another set of footsteps padded through the hall, much lighter than her mother’s. “Mom? Do we have any of those dumplings left?”

Rohan stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but stopped in his tracks when he saw his sister there. “Jinora?”

“Hey, kiddo.”

He threw his arms around her, almost laughing with excitement. Jinora held her brother there, patting him on the back as she did. Even when she had been at her lowest points, she gravitated to Rohan and their mother, sticking together as the nonbending half of their family. He looked over her shoulder at the half-empty cup on the table. “What’s that?”

“It’s a special kind of tea, you might not like it. How’ve you been? Mom said it’s been kind of crazy here.”

“Yeah. Dad got a promotion and now he’s hardly ever home. And we have all these weird guards here all the time. I liked the acolytes better. Mom says it’s because of the Eq…Equa…the people that hurt you.”

Rohan pulled away as Jinora put a hand over her stomach. “Right.” There were more footsteps in the hall, adult-sized footsteps. “Listen, I have to go into the city with Dad for a little bit, but I’ll be back, okay? We’ll have breakfast and catch up.”

Pema returned with Tenzin in tow, and Rohan latched onto her while Tenzin breathed an audible sigh of relief. He swept Jinora up in his arms, and she tried to remember how long it had been since both of her parents had done that in the same day. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, being picked up and held, apart from the flat of her sword sheath bumping on her leg, but she rather wished it was Mako doing the holding rather than her father.

“Good to see you too, Dad,” she wheezed, struggling to breathe in his grip until he set her down. “I know I just got here, but we really have to go to the Earth Kingdom embassy. Korra can probably explain it better than I could.”

“Korra’s here?”

It wasn’t her father’s voice, but still oddly familiar. There was another set of footfalls approaching the kitchen, and Jinora recognized the man that stepped into view, wrapped in a fur-lined bathrobe. She wondered briefly how many people were actually in her house. “Chief Tonraq?”

He nodded, suppressing a yawn. “Jinora, right? It’s good to see you again. I was coming back from my brother’s funeral in the north when your family offered to put me up until Korra got back from the Earth Kingdom.”

“Oh, well, she’s here, I dropped off her and the Earth Queen at the embassy. We really should get there, the situation in Ba Sing Se is getting worse by the minute.”

“Let’s go, then.”

She may as well have lit a fire under Tonraq, because he was dressed and ready to go in a matter of minutes while Tenzin moved much more slowly. It was very early in the morning, but even so, he looked exhausted. The sides of his beard were unkempt, hair was creeping in all over his scalp, except for a large bald patch on top, and large bags sat beneath his eyes. Some gray had even begun to creep into his otherwise brown hair. It was as if she had been gone for ten years, judging by how very haggard he looked.

Jinora glanced at the guards sitting outside as they returned to Pepper, shooting them a foul look before bringing Pepper out of the stables. “Have you ever ridden on a bison, Chief?”

“I can’t say that I have, no.”

“Well—” Jinora laced her fingers together and leaned down to provide a step for him— “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Once he and Tenzin were in the saddle, Jinora began coaxing Pepper to lower his head so she could climb into her spot. He finally relented after several rushed promises about not having to fly again for the rest of the day and getting his weight in figs for lunch, but the door to the house opened before she could climb on. Jinora glanced back, realized what she was seeing, and froze.

Ikki was walking toward them, clad in a simple saffron robe. Her hair had been shorn away, and in its place was a pale blue arrow pointing to her brow, identical to the ones on her feet and the backs of her hands. Jinora swallowed hard as her sister called her name and ran up to her, nearly bowling her over with a hug. She returned the embrace after a moment, still not quite believing what she was seeing. Ikki had her arrows. That was really it, then. Her sword shifted on her belt, uncomfortably heavy compared to the lightness of the air she could no longer bend.

“I…it’s great to see you again, sis. Congratulations,” she said, her voice sullen as she stepped back.

“Yeah, I was starting to think I’d never get my tattoos!” Ikki bounced from heel to heel, only understanding after a moment that her words had struck like a sledgehammer. “No, I mean…Jinora, you’re still an Air Nomad, even if you don’t have your bending anymore—”

She turned away, struggling to keep herself composed for her sister. Tears welled in her eyes, and she bit them back. “Your arrows are so beautiful, Ikki.”

Without another word, Jinora climbed onto Pepper and cracked the reins. He lumbered forward and beat his tail, rising up into the air and clearing the courtyard. As it turned out, Tonraq’s voice could get even higher than his daughter’s in the midst of his panicked yelling as Pepper sharply gained altitude and soared over the water.

“It’s okay Chief, we’re leveling out,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to see him with his arms wrapped around the saddle. “Everyone reacts like that their first time. Oh, Dad, do you remember Aunt Su’s daughter Kuvira?”

“Her Lieutenant Governor, yes. What about her?”

Jinora put on her best air of nonchalance as they zipped between two skyscrapers on Jiěmèi Street. “She got promoted. It’s Queen Kuvira now, thought I should give you a heads-up. The last queen was sort of…assassinated.”

That prompted a hushed discussion between Tenzin and Tonraq, one Jinora was all too glad not to be a part of. Listening to Korra and Kuvira discuss politics endlessly on the way back had been quite enough of it for her. Their path to the embassy brought them over the plaza that faced City Hall, and near the middle she saw Mako and Bolin, with Asami running over to them.

She peered down for a better look, wondering if the others had relocated as well, but a deafening explosion blew out the front of City Hall, sending Pepper careening off course and toward another building.

⁂

Asami was only vaguely aware of the throng of reporters following her as she split off from the group in front of the embassy. Their questions were muffled and far away, and her eyes snapped shut instinctively at the flash of camera bulbs. She knew the way home by heart, turning at one intersection, crossing the street at another, and apart from the press and the occasional soldier there were few people to pass. If there were, they went unnoticed in her haze.

She knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up after a drunken one-off out in the middle of nowhere, but she did, and the consequences of that misplaced optimism were creeping in like knives pricking at her heart. They were all public figures, and if nothing else, matters of station made it appropriate. The Avatar and the Earth Queen. She _knew_ it made sense. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

Near the entrance to her neighborhood, she turned around to face the dozen or so reporters still on her tail. “I’m sorry,” she said, putting on a weak smile. “It’s been a very long few months, and the flight home was exhausting. There will be a press conference later to explain everything, I’m sure.”

They launched another volley of questions, ignoring everything she said, and Asami scowled as she turned away. _Vulture rats_ , she thought. Eventually she dipped into an alley to shake off the last bit of the press corps, and the early morning silence hung around her, as thick as the humidity in the air and just as unwelcome. It felt strange, after a week in such close quarters with others, to be so alone that she could hear her own footfalls on the sidewalk. Her friends, plus Mako, were a short walk away at City Hall, and she hadn’t felt more isolated in months.

She took a key from her jacket pocket and unlocked the front gate to her house, ignoring the overflowing mail slot on the other side of the gate. Various bits of trash lobbed over the fence littered the driveway and lawn, but that diminished as she got farther from the street.

_TRAITOR_

It was scrawled over and over on the front of her house, painted on in some places, carved with a knife in others, and burned into the front door with what looked like electrified kali sticks. The Equalist symbol was painted onto the one ground-level window that wasn’t broken. Asami sighed and unlocked the front door.

Broken glass covered the floor, and she chewed the inside of her cheek, holding back tears as she retrieved a broom and swept it into a corner. The air inside managed to be both stale and humid at once, only adding to the unpleasant atmosphere brought on by hundreds of glass shards scratching across the tile. When it was cleared away enough to walk, she checked the kitchen, where she saw most everything had spoiled after leaving it for months. Asami took a trash bag from under the sink, cleared out her refrigerator and left it out back before she went upstairs.

The second floor was markedly less damaged than the first, although there was still a long gash in the wallpaper where she had swung a knife the night after discovering her airbending. Asami knelt down and ran her hand through the carpeting, hoping that no broken glass had somehow made its way up to the second floor. The texture, the slight roughness, was pleasantly familiar between her fingers, bringing a small smile to her face along with the memories of defying her mother by playing so close to the stairs. Pain crept along with the thoughts of her mother, made more acute when she realized just how difficult it was to remember her face.

Her room was exactly as she left it after leaving with Korra all those weeks ago. She picked up the fire poker, bent to uselessness, and threw it into the corner. The disassembled shock glove still sat on her desk, electrical aperture shining in the light from the sunrise, and her comforter lay rumpled at the foot of her bed. Asami picked up one of her pillows, held it under her nose, and took a deep breath. She didn’t know if was actually Korra’s scent or only her imagination, but it brought a sweet thrumming to her chest all the same.

When she finally put the pillow down after several minutes, she crouched down in front of her hope chest and wiped some dust away with her sleeve. Everything was still inside, some of her nicer jewelry laid buried in spare sheets, as well as the documents and maps beneath the false bottom she had asked Mako to retrieve. “Idiot,” she said, and piled everything into a small briefcase, a birthday gift from her father. The irony was not lost on her, and it brought a humorless smile to her lips.

After a hot shower and a few moments deciding on a fresh outfit—little comforts she missed more than she had realized at first—Asami grabbed the documents and locked her house up behind her, lamenting its sorry state for the first time. It looked better from the front gate, but she hoped there would be a chance to schedule repairs before they left for the Fire Nation.

If Korra still wanted her there, of course.

The thought snaked unbidden into her mind, insidious in its casualness, offhand like a passing notion about the weather. She shook her head clear. Of course Korra wanted her there. They were still friends. She only wanted her friend to be happy.

As the city slowly came to life while she took a taxi to City Hall, the bustle around her began to liven up Asami. Combined with the crisp freshness of her new clothes, she felt _good_ for the first time in months. A renewed sense of purpose surged through her all the way to the center of the city, and she took a deep breath as she left the taxi and rounded the final street corner.

The plaza in front of City Hall held many conflicting memories for her, between her first date with Mako and discovering Korra was the Avatar, but seeing such a familiar place put her at ease. A bison soared overhead in the same direction. Pepper, she realized, coming back from the direction of the bay and Air Temple Island. The little spot of brown fur on one of his back legs told her as much. Mako and Bolin were there as well, in the main plaza along with a rather tall woman, and they all turned to her as she jogged up to them.

“Hey, thanks for getting those files,” Asami said, holding up her briefcase.

Mako opened his mouth to reply, but an explosion ripped through City Hall before he could, and the flash of light nearly blinded her.

⁂

Lin almost yanked Su’s arm out of its socket as she led her stiffly out of the former Council chamber, retreating to a secluded part of the main rotunda. She didn’t even want to _touch_ her sister, but she had never been one for sweet words to get what she wanted, and Su never responded to that, in any case. Before she could say anything, she caught Mako cutting across the rotunda, red-faced and hurried. He was still in custody, he shouldn’t have been leaving at all, but one person at a time. She wanted to grab him, certainly, maybe knock both of their heads at once, but Su would have to be first.

“Quit manhandling me,” Su said, rolling her shoulder to get it back in its proper place. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I would ask you the same thing—or _who’s_ gotten into you, rather—if I didn’t already know the answer.”

Su cocked an eyebrow and twisted her mouth, the way she did when she was trying not to smirk. She was a terrible liar. A bad trait for a politician, Lin thought. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you try and bullshit me, you and Mako were—were—”

The words caught in her throat, half from anger, half from disbelief. Su always went on in her letters about her family and her husband, and not two weeks after leaving Zaofu she was sleeping with the one person that caused Lin more grief than everyone else put together.

“Damn seismic sense,” Su muttered.

“Please. I didn’t even need that. You’re not nearly as quiet as you think. Either of you.”

“If this is such an affront to you, why didn’t you stop us this morning?” she asked, crossing her arms. Lin scoffed.

“You think I wanted to barge in on the last triad boss in the city balls-deep in my sister?”

A moment of silence followed where Su had to keep from laughing, puckering her lips while tremors wracked her. Lin thought her slip of the tongue was rather funny too, if she was being completely honest, but she wasn’t going to give Su the satisfaction. “What the fuck were you doing?”

“Mako,” Su said.

“But _why_?” Lin grabbed her by the shoulders, intending to shake her, but instead she used her sister for support. “There’s a whole city full of guys here for you to cheat on Baatar with, why did you have to pick _him_?”

“First of all, not cheating. I know you’re familiar with exactly one kind of relationship, but that’s not the kind that Baatar and I have. Second, as much as I used to love riling you up when we were kids, I didn’t sleep with Mako to spite you. Sex is too fun to use as a weapon.”

“Why, then? Why?”

“You really are just like him, you know that? There’s no secret plot here. No conniving, no conspiracy. I did it because I wanted to. He’s cute, he’s got that irresistible bad boy thing, and he’s got a huge—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Lin said, throwing her hand up between them. Su looked ready to go glassy-eyed as she bit her lip in reminiscence. “I don’t want to know…any of that. Certainly heard more than enough through that wall. But the fact is, he’s still in the custody of Republic City and the Avatar. Prisoners can’t consent.”

Su rolled her eyes. “Oh, spare me. I didn’t put a knife to his throat. He needed it as much as I did, as a matter of fact. Can you imagine having to see your ex all the time?”

Lin only scowled at her.

“Okay, bad example. The point is, I don’t intrude on your sex life…such that it is…”

Her scowl grew more intense.

“And I’d like the same courtesy extended to me, as a visiting diplomat if not as a sister. Mako will be leaving when Korra does, and I have to go back to whatever mess the Earth Kingdom is in right now with Kuvira. Excuse me, _Queen_ Kuvira. That’s going to take some getting used to…we’ll both be out of your hair soon enough, but you should let him spend the rest of his time here out from under your thumb. If only because you’re a much lighter sleeper than I remember.”

“You’re unbelievable, you really are.” Lin waved her hand and became very interested in the floor. “He’s back in the Avatar’s custody, he’s her problem now. You can do what you want with him.”

With a grimace, Lin turned herself and sat on the bench they were standing in front of, expanding part of her leg brace to relieve the pressure on her thigh. Su sat beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Can I ask you something? Something personal?”

“I’ve heard more about your life than I ever wanted to today, I don’t see why I shouldn’t return the favor.”

“Right. I know you’re upset with me. Angry.” Su took a deep breath. “Do you think part of that might also be…jealousy?”

Of all the things in her life that Lin was proud of, what she was most proud of was never retaliating against her sister after she gave Lin the scars that marred her cheek. In that moment, she came closer than she ever had to cracking her sister across the face. It would have been so easy, too. She was in the right position, all she had to do was wind her arm back and let loose. Instead, she closed her eyes and had something new to be proud of.

“ _No_. I never needed Mako’s advances to validate myself. Let him shift it over to you for all I care. I get…plenty of male attention from outside the city’s criminal element.”

“You’re an even worse liar than I am,” Su said.

On that account, she had no defense. She was maimed, pushing fifty-eight, and knew her personality rubbed everyone roughly, not to mention what decades of stressful work had done to her looks. Laying it all out didn’t make it any easier to accept, though. The irritating heat behind her eyes told her tears weren’t far off, and she would be damned before she cried in front of Su.

“So what? Some of us get fulfilment in ways that aren’t fucking.” Lin’s hand tightened into a fist on her lap, and then relaxed. “All those years haranguing me, and he just…melts in your hands the instant you show him some attention.”

“I don’t think ‘melted’ is the right word,” Su said, biting her lip again. “Exploded, maybe. And certainly not in my hand.”

Lin made the conscious decision to ignore that remark. “So you punched a hole in my ego. Wouldn’t be the first time. I’ll get over it. I didn’t _want_ him, you didn’t _steal_ him from me, he ought to be in a cell where he can’t drive me crazy.”

“Who are you trying to convince, me or you?”

She ran a hand through her hair, and a single tear fell unbidden into her lap before she bit back the rest. Su had an annoying way of digging up things that she would rather remain buried, where they belonged. Another bad trait for a politician. “I’m not trying to convince anyone. It’s the truth.”

“You know, it’s okay to admit you’re human,” Su said, putting on a weak smile. “We all know you’re not the stony-faced police chief all the time. It’s okay to have feelings and needs and like attention, even if it’s from someone annoying.”

“Annoying?”

Su shrugged. “Mako likes to talk rather than…you know. Again, eerily like you. I don’t even remember how many times I wanted to bang on the wall between our rooms when we were kids and tell you and Tenzin to shut up and get on with it. You can’t filibuster your way to an orgasm.”

It was strange to Lin, sitting there with her sister and speaking so frankly. Even after patching up their relationship, the letters they exchanged were more cordial than familiar. Strange, but nice, she decided. If Su was going to be the closest thing she had to a friend, then it would be good for them to be open and honest with each other.

“Fine. It bothers me. But it bothers me that it bothers me, okay? I’m human, but I’m the chief of police, too. Besides which, it’s not anything close to appropriate. Whether we can get the evidence or not, he’s a triad boss, not to mention still technically a prisoner. I’m old enough to be his mother—I looked it up, we _would_ be the same age if she were alive—and I tried to take care of them after their parents died. The whole idea leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

Su adjusted the small diadem that circled her forehead, fixing the jewel that hung down above her eyes. “You’re doing it again. You’re trying to convince yourself and make it sound like you’re convincing me. Honestly, I think you need this even more than I did.”

“Well, I’m not going to go and jump on him. That’s more your style.” Lin smiled mirthlessly while Su smirked.

“Like you said, there’s a whole city full of guys here,” Su said, putting her arm around Lin and pulling her into a sidelong hug. “There have to be at least a few you haven’t arrested.”

“Can’t believe I need my baby sister to help get me laid,” she mumbled. Su had to laugh at that.

“I think I stopped being your ‘baby’ sister about a million gray hairs ago. Not sure what I could do to help you, anyway. I’m an awful wingman, and you can’t be _that_ rusty.” Su perked up. “You want to borrow Baatar?”

Lin shuddered. Somehow she knew the offer came from a good place, but it still turned her stomach. She didn’t need her sister’s…leftovers. “Pass. Look, I should get Tenzin down here. The more of the army he can send into the Earth Kingdom, the less that’ll be here to bother me.”

She took a coin from her pocket and stood at the payphone beside their bench. After dropping the coin in and quickly bending it back out, much to the admiring glance of her sister, Lin took the handset and called over to Air Temple Island. It rang a few times before someone picked up.

“Hello?”

Her grip on the handset tightened. “Pema. It’s Lin.”

“Oh. Hi. It’s kind of early, isn’t it?”

There was a certain feigned casualness to her tone, the same as when they forced themselves to talk to one another at formal events. She hadn’t spoken to Pema since her and Tenzin’s first and only visit to her in the hospital, and her voice was tired, strained. Maybe it was from the early hour—Lin doubted Pema had suffered through as rude an awakening as her—but something told her it was more than that.

“Yeah, real early. Listen, the Avatar and the Earth Queen are here at City Hall, is the president up yet? He’ll want to hear what they have to say.”

“Tenzin and Chief Tonraq left with Jinora already, about ten minutes ago. They were headed for the Earth Kingdom embassy, she said that was where she dropped them off.”

Lin frowned. “We picked them up from there a little while ago. I’ll call the embassy and get them over…over here…”

Her hackles started to rise. Something was wrong. It was too quiet, even for the early weekend morning. She set the handset back on its cradle and scanned the rotunda, made all the easier by the removal of the massive monument in the middle. Finally her gaze settled on a brown leather briefcase, sitting abandoned under another bench, with no one in sight who might have owned it. Shutting out the pain from her leg, she slammed her uninjured foot against the floor, reaching out through the echoes. Korra and Kuvira were still in the gallery beside one another, the soldiers outside had gone back to sitting around the steps, and…ticking.

The briefcase was ticking.

She remembered throwing herself over Su, and then an eruption of light, sound and heat.

⁂

Mako couldn’t get out of the rotunda a moment too soon. He thought he knew why Lin had dragged Su off, and the glare she shot him as he passed through to the entrance only confirmed it. It was going to be a very long day.

The soldiers on the steps outside still stood at attention, and he ignored them as he rushed through the plaza. All he had to do was go and get Bolin. The sooner the better, too. Once they got the rest of the army they wanted, he would at least be back under Korra’s thumb, and not Lin’s. As for Su, that would take a good deal more puzzling out, and he was still too tired and far too sober to think about it.

Once through the plaza, he walked backwards on the sidewalk as he tried to hail a taxi. Most of them were likely at the end of their shifts, unwilling to take another fare. It was only after he produced a small stack of yuans from his jacket that one of the little yellow cars stopped and he was able to climb in.

“Where to?” the driver asked, fighting back a yawn.

“Corner of Xhang and Sifu.” Mako dropped the money into the driver’s lap. “Keep the change and make it quick.”

Five minutes of breakneck driving later, Mako stepped shakily out of the taxi, and its newly-enriched driver sped off with his money. It was well-spent, although Mako needed several of the minutes he saved to get his equilibrium back. He was glad he never tried to muscle in on the taxi business in the city. The drivers were absolutely crazy.

When he regained his balance, Mako started along the lonely street, passing only parked cars and a young boy carrying bundles of papers to newsstands. Bolin’s house came up quickly, wider and taller than its neighbors, and more than a little ostentatious with the gold trim around the windows. A man stood on the stoop in front of the door, bored but vigilant. No, Mako realized. A woman, not a man, and a rather tall, stolid one at that.

“Shen?”

Her air of boredom vanished when she heard his voice, and she jumped over the side of the stoop to get at him. “Boss,” she said, forgetting herself and wrapping him in a hug. That was new, he thought. Not entirely unwelcome, doubly so since the disparity in their heights put his face nearly level with her chest. Yes, Mako thought, it was going to be a very long day. After a moment she seemed to grasp what she was doing, and set him back down with a nervous laugh. “It’s, uh, good to see you again.”

“Likewise. How come you’re pulling guard duty for my brother? Don’t tell me you’ve gone over to the public sector,” he said with a wry smile. Shen shrugged.

“We’re just doing some contracting. The army’s here, and even though they’re focusing on the Equalists, they probably wouldn’t waste the chance to deal with us if we made enough noise.” She scratched the back of her head. “Besides, government work pays pretty well.”

He took notice of her new diamond earrings. “I can see that. Listen, can I go inside? The Avatar and the Earth Queen got back an hour ago and I figured Bolin would want to be at City Hall for the meeting. Might end up pulling out even more of the army. Ba Sing Se is real bad right now, the way they tell it.”

Shen glanced at the door, and then produced a key from her pocket after a moment. “All right. Go on up, I’ll get the car started. Oh, and…he’s not alone,” she added.

Mako nodded, took the offered key, and went into Bolin’s house.

The foyer was richly appointed, too richly for his taste, really. An antique Fire Nation rug covered the floor, and small Earth Kingdom scrolls dotted the walls and led up the stairs. Mako noted with some small amusement that a few were counterfeits of his triad’s own making.

Everything was quiet on the second floor, where a long tapestry of…something adorned the wall facing the stairs. It wouldn’t have looked out of place with one of Huan’s handmade frames around it. Mako would have to give him a call before Korra dragged him off again. Bolin’s bedroom door looked much like all the others in the hallway, except that the doorknob was gold where the others were brass. He knocked and, remembering the trauma in Opal’s eyes after trying too eagerly to get her sister out of bed, waited for a response.

“Bolin,” he said, rapping his knuckles on the door again, more insistently. “Let’s go. Korra’s back, and if you’re not there Tenzin might actually start running the country himself.”

A low groan was his only reply. “Make yourself decent, yeah?”

He pushed the door open, and the smell of baijiu hit him hard. Bolin might not have been a firebender, but he and Mako certainly had the same tolerance for alcohol. There were three empty bottles that he could count on the windowsill opposite the door, their fumes nearly peeling the paint off the window trim. Bolin himself was still in bed, sprawled out across the mattress with his face in a pillow.

“You’ll smother like that, you idiot,” Mako said, picking his head up and turning it enough so that his breathing wouldn’t be impeded. There was a sound, humming through from the next room, and he only identified it as the shower when it cut off. At about the same time he noticed a small pair of glasses on the nightstand, the kind that clipped onto a person’s nose rather than resting over their ears.

The bathroom door opened, and a slender woman with sopping wet brown hair poked her head out. “Bolin, did you hear something? And are my glasses over there?”

Mako picked them up from the nightstand and walked them over. “Hello, Zhu Li. Here’re your glasses.”

She might have been blind without them, but her ears worked fine, and they turned a bright shade of scarlet as she picked out his voice. “Thank you, Mako. Welcome back.”

He put the glasses in her hand and she closed the door as quickly as she could. Mako went back to the bed and shook his brother until he got some kind of response. “Your chief of staff? Classy.”

“And how’s your morning been, Mako?” Bolin asked, slurring his words.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“No? Was it rudely interrupted by your brother when you were only trying to get some sleep?”

“It was interrupted by a sibling, let’s leave it at that.” The recollection swam into his head, confusing and troubling and blissful all at once. “Come on. Korra and Asami are back, and Korra’s got the Earth Queen with her.”

Bolin turned over, away from Mako and toward the darkened window. “Forgive me if I don’t want to start the day listening to some thoroughly unpleasant old woman.”

“New queen,” Mako said, as much for his brother as for himself. They got along well enough in Zaofu, but he hadn’t taken a great amount of time to get to know her. She had usually been with Korra, anyway. “You met Su’s daughter Kuvira, right? It’s her. Long-lost princess, royal family in shambles, something like that. Can we go, please?”

He picked his head up from the pillow and glanced over his shoulder at Mako. “Okay, you have my attention. Let me get dressed, Shen will drive us.”

Mako went downstairs, all too glad to be away from the smell of more liquor, and examined one of the scrolls hanging in the foyer. Definitely a counterfeit. One of their earlier ones, too, before they had really refined the process. Bolin came down behind him, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Like it?” he asked, tapping the bottom of the scroll.

“Yeah, real nice. Let’s go.”

Outside, Bolin’s car was idling, with Shen already behind the wheel. They climbed into the back and Bolin gave her City Hall as their destination. Almost no traffic presented itself, and Mako watched the city wake up from his window as they sped by. It was no taxi ride, but the tiny flags mounted on the hood of the car made the drive smooth and swift.

“So how exactly did the Lieutenant Governor of the Jīnshǔ Province become the Earth Queen?” Bolin asked.

“You’ll have to ask her. All I know is we showed up at the embassy and she had the crown.”

Bolin nodded, trying to keep himself awake. “I guess if she’s even got our crazy anarchist Avatar supporting her, it’s all legitimate.”

“Don’t talk about Korra that way,” Mako said, much more sharply than he intended. Bolin narrowed his eyes, and even Shen glanced back as they waited at a light. “Don’t.”

They made the rest of the trip in silence, and Shen accompanied them as they crossed the plaza toward City Hall. Mako noticed a bison on approach overhead, with a slight, wiry woman at the reins. _Jinora_. A knot in his heart unclenched at seeing her unharmed, and the others paused while he stood there.

“Can we go?” Bolin asked.

“Hey, thanks for getting those files.”

Mako turned around and saw Asami coming toward them, holding up a briefcase. _Oops_. He knew he had forgotten to do something. Before he could say anything in his own defense, an explosion split the morning silence, tearing City Hall to pieces before their eyes.


	29. Renewal

Korra wasn’t sure when she came to, or if she had even passed out. There was a new hole in the ceiling, and the sky looked much the same as it had when they entered City Hall. A great deal of dust settled on her and stung her eyes, to say nothing of the remains of her chair digging into her back. Something sharp bit into her side and her head, acute and searing while her ears rang terribly.

“I hate explosions,” she said to no one in particular, and a shot of terror ran through her. “Kuvira!”

She couldn’t even hear herself as she stood, ignoring the pain in her side and blood trickling from her temple, and swept away a pile of rubble with a gust of wind. It clattered into what remained of the far wall, and her stomach turned when she saw a fallen pillar holding up the twisted remains of a chandelier.

Her jaw clenched, white light glowing from her eyes and scars, and the massive column slid across the floor as if it were so much cardboard. The chandelier got the same treatment, its gold liquefying an instant before it hit the wall. On the other side of where they had fallen, dust and bits of wall covered Kuvira’s outfit, and another blast of air cleared it well enough. She fell to her knees and picked up the queen, cradling her and giving her a quick look over. There was nothing sticking out of her, nothing bending or twisting in ways it shouldn’t have, only a swelling bruise on her cheek.

The glow in her eyes died away, and Korra sighed in relief. She was slipping in and out of consciousness, but alive, and not badly hurt. That was enough for Korra to focus on tearing apart whoever had blown up the building. She tried to stand, still holding Kuvira, but her side screamed in protest all the way up.

With a glance down, she saw a piece of a chair embedded slightly above her hip, soaking her shirt and pants red. There were other, smaller bits of stone, glass and wood biting into her arms and legs, leaving rivulets of blood dripping all over. Each step out of the gallery brought with it an exquisite shock of pain, flashing down into her leg and up to her shoulder. In the rotunda—what was left of the rotunda—she picked out what had to be the epicenter of the explosion, a scorched section of floor that had rubble flowing outward in concentric circles. It was against where the wall to the gallery had been.

On the other side of the rotunda, Mako was pulling Lin and Su out from under the remains of a bench. When she was on her feet again, Su stumbled toward Korra and swept Kuvira up in her arms while Lin limped out of the building with her arm slung over Mako’s shoulder.

“Equalists,” Lin spat as they got to the steps. “Had to be. They just signed away their due process.”

Korra worked her way through an especially painful bout of coughing as she fought to stay upright while descending the stairs. The few people who had been in the plaza were gone, replaced by Mako’s brother and a woman Korra didn’t recognize, perhaps his assistant, getting Tenzin and another man out of Pepper’s overturned saddle. The bison himself laid at the foot of a building with a large crack in the wall, presumably where he had struck. Korra noted with a sickening feeling in her stomach that the only motion she could detect was a bit of involuntary twitching in one of his legs, as well as the blood pooling around him. Asami was there as well, holding back Jinora as she strained to get back to her bison. Her screams split the silence that had settled in the wake of the explosion, pained and pleading and desperate.

A flash of motion on one side of the plaza caught Korra’s eye, so quick she might not have noticed it but for the glimmer of light reflecting off two sticks on the figure’s back. That, and the figure was running awfully fast in the opposite direction.

Hoping that she hadn’t been hit in her fire chakra after the blast, Korra focused her chi and thrust her scarred arm forward, letting lightning spring from her fingers and rip through the humid summer air. There was too much moisture for her to hope it would hit its mark, and the bolt quickly grounded out against a lamppost. It served its purpose, though, and alerted everyone else to the figure’s presence. Asami turned and was still for a moment before taking off after him like a woman possessed, leaving Jinora to waver and ultimately follow her at a dead run.

Mako went after them as well, but not before setting Lin on the bench where Su had laid Kuvira. Korra made a move to follow, but pain ripped through her abdomen, so sharp and so hot she thought she might have hit herself with her own lightning. She hissed and pressed her hand around the wooden shard, garnering another dizzying spate of pain for herself. All she could feel there was warm, sticky blood and the splintered shard sticking out of her skin.

She sank to her knees and a stinging ran through her head from her temple, where she chanced to feel around. The blood she felt might have been from either her head or her side, but there was definitely a sliver of stone there, embedded above and in front of her ear on the side of her left eye socket. It ached, throbbing along with each beat of her heart.

Everything started going hazy as the adrenaline wore off, and her vision doubled as she clung to consciousness. That stone must have been lodged deeper than she thought, because she was seeing things. It looked like her father was running up to her, but that couldn’t be right. She was dimly aware of shouting, but it was drowned out by the ringing in her ears.

The hallucination caught her before she hit the ground and drove the wooden shard even further into her side. Odd, she thought. It felt so very real. The stone had to be lodged more deeply than she originally guessed. Flashes of white light flickered in her eyes, leaving spots dotting her vision. Korra gasped and went limp, falling into darkness.

⁂

Asami regretted not keeping up with her cardio while they were away, and her lungs burned as Mako bounded past her. Her outfit, too, was for meeting with politicians, not a foot chase. Jinora had been behind her the last time she glanced back, but the ground was too irregular to split her attention again. The air around the plaza was still singed from lightning and acrid with smoke, stinging her throat with every painful mouthful.

Mako slid to take a hard corner, igniting a spout of flame from his palm for counterbalance before disappearing into the alley. Asami did the same with a gale of wind, almost rolling her ankle as she skittered down to a speed where she could make such a sharp turn.

The alley was narrow and dingy, mottled with uneven ground and lined with fire escapes on either side. The same alley she found Korra fighting in, she noted with some amusement. It would be too enclosed for her or Mako to bend effectively in a straight fight, but there was still plenty she could do…if she could still see. Another blinding bolt of lightning tore down the alley, sizzling out of Mako’s fingers and arcing wildly just as Korra’s had in the humid air. It grounded out against a dumpster and flowed into the asphalt beneath their feet. The figure wheeled around—Fù Shen, Asami saw, as if it could have been anyone else—and threw one of his kali sticks at Mako. Violet sparks crackled an instant before the end struck Mako in the chest, sending him to one knee. There wasn’t enough force behind the strike to knock him out, but his bending would be unreliable at best for a few hours.

Fù was already one flight up on the fire escape, taking the stairs three at a time. Jinora brushed by her and tried getting Mako back on his feet. Asami took a moment to size up the situation. She couldn’t catch him on the fire escape, not in her current clothes. Her range of motion wasn’t anywhere near what it was with proper combat gear. Besides, he still had one more kali stick he could throw at her with that uncanny aim of his.

With a deep breath, Asami crouched, put her arms out, and swung around as she straightened her legs. The air whirled around her, drawing in toward her legs along with all the smoke and ash still hanging about them. She jumped, and for a moment she was weightless. The windows rushed by as she spiraled upward, spinning in a tight corkscrew. She braced herself for the dizziness, but it passed as she touched down on the store’s vaulted roof.

As soon as she got to the top of the fire escape, she heard the rattle of the metal stairs right below her. Her leg came up in a wide, sweeping kick, crashing into Fù’s chest with a loud _crack_. He staggered back, reeling from having the wind knocked out of him, and Asami followed up with a rushing strike of air. It sent him over the railing of the fire escape and back down to the alley, where the sharp screech of breaking glass accompanied his landing.

Her stomach turned. She hadn’t wanted to kill him. Not yet, anyway. Asami sped down the fire escape, jumping down each flight rather than taking the stairs, and huffed a small sigh of relief when she saw he was still breathing. Jinora had gotten Mako to his feet, and he snapped the kali stick that struck him over his knee while Asami undid her belt and used it to bind Fù’s hands and feet together.

“You okay?” Asami asked, wiping her forehead with the sleeve of her jacket.

Mako took the other kali stick, still in its holster, and snapped it as well before nodding. “Yeah. Always hated this guy. We should get back—Jinora?”

They glanced back at her. She had gone glassy-eyed again, staring at Fù while her hand drifted to the pommel of her sword. Mako hoisted him up onto his shoulder, taking care as he turned around to smack his head against a dumpster.

Flashing lights and wailing sirens greeted them back in the plaza, where fire trucks were quelling a few flames in the buildings surrounding City Hall. A pair of ambulances had torn over the hedges and parked beside the main promenade, while medics carried Korra and Kuvira out on stretchers with Su trailing behind. Kuvira looked okay, but Korra…Korra looked like a bloody mess, and Asami felt her breath catch in her throat. Pepper still hadn’t moved.

Lin was pushing away a medic and directing him to focus on the Avatar when they got to her. “Can I borrow your cuffs, Chief?”

She looked at the man in the somewhat mangled Equalist uniform slung over Mako’s shoulder and cracked the merest hint of a smile. Lin handed them over without a word and Mako dropped a barely-conscious Fù against a lamppost. Asami retrieved her belt, handcuffed him securely to the pole, and ran to the ambulances.

“The one time I want the police to show up and they’re nowhere to be found,” Mako muttered, walking off toward his brother. Lin went with him, to where Tenzin and Chief Tonraq were recovering on the steps of the treasury. Jinora stood there, alone, watching him slowly come to. He glared up at her, and then watched the medics load Korra onto the ambulance.

“Aren’t you a little young to be playing cop?” he asked, grimacing as he adjusted himself against the lamppost.

Jinora clenched her jaw. “You don’t remember me?”

“Should I?”

His voice grated at her ear, and a chill ran down her spine. “I guess not. That’s okay. I remember you.”

“I’m flattered.”

She stepped toward him and took her sword from its sheath. The thunderbolt iron gleamed in the early morning light. Its tip poked at the fabric of his uniform, over his heart, and he swallowed hard. “I remember you and your friends grabbing me at the pro-bending arena. I remember you holding me up while that monster took my bending. I remember you shoving my face in the gutter to keep me quiet while you and your friends raped me over and over and OVER—”

Her sword hit the lamppost with a _clang_ as it broke through the back of his chest. He seized, shuddering while his legs flailed ineffectually, and then fell still. A spray of warm, wet blood hit her face, mingling with the tears streaking down along her cheeks. She twisted her sword a few times for good measure, letting the metal work its way through him, then pulled it away and looked at the red covering the black blade. Her own shallow breathing was all she could hear, and all she could feel was a sick, gnawing sense of emptiness.

No one else had arrived, and no one had been watching her. Her sword clattered to the ground, and Jinora walked calmly back to her bison, curling up against his unmoving body.

“Please get up, Pepper…please…”

⁂

“No, no change yet. You ought to get some sleep, Your Majesty.”

“I’m fine.”

Voices drifted in, hazy and distant. A door closed somewhere. She could smell sharp, pungent rubbing alcohol nearby, and she tried getting up. Her body responded as if it was moving through water, and all she could do was curl her unscarred hand into a fist. It was a start.

She balled her hand up, feeling the skin on her palm, and then flattened it out. The sheets underneath her were soft and smooth. She flexed her wrist next, pitching her whole hand from side to side. That still worked, at least. Her elbow responded afterward, and on and on until she was able to open her eyes. White ceiling. Bright light.

“Getting really tired of waking up in hospitals,” she said quietly.

“Korra!”

There was barely time to turn her head before Kuvira jumped onto the side of the bed, wrapping her arms around Korra and falling upon her with tearful kisses to her cheek. Korra brought her hands up, still fuzzy from nonuse, and hugged her back. “Hey.”

“You’re okay…I was so scared,” Kuvira said, tightening her grip.

“What happened? I remember things getting stuck in me, lightning…are you okay?”

Kuvira gently touched a bandage on the side of Korra’s head. “I was knocked out, but they said you took the worst of it. Everyone wound up back at City Hall when the bomb went off. Mako and Asami got the guy, though. One of the Equalists, Asami said it was the new leader.”

“More bombs. I bet Beifong was glad to get her hands on him.”

“Well…not quite.”

“What do you mean?”

She pulled back and sat in the chair beside Korra’s bed. “Jinora was the only one they left watching him while they were taking us to the hospital. She skewered the guy.”

“Oh.” Korra sat up, sitting against the bed for support. She didn’t feel as if she needed it, but she remembered what happened the last time she tried to jump out of a hospital bed. “After what they did to her, I can’t say that I blame her.”

“Mako and Asami said as much. Plus with what happened to Pepper, she couldn’t have been in her right mind then.”

Her eyes widened, asking a silent question. Kuvira frowned and shook her head. “He hit the building too hard. They weren’t able to save him.”

“No, Pepper…”

“I’m sorry. They already gave him a sky burial.”

Korra sighed and leaned back, feeling a pit settle in her stomach. She put a hand on her gown and felt a large bandage on her side. When she pulled the gown away, Korra saw a patch of gauze affixed with surgical tape. The shard of wood, she remembered.

“That piece of chair was in there pretty deep,” Kuvira said, lacing up their fingers. “So was the stone in your head. Your doctor had to send you to surgery to get it out. They wouldn’t let me bend it, they were worried you might start bleeding into your brain if it came it too fast.”

“And now?”

“They got it, no lasting damage except for a few marks. You have a really good healer. Kaede, I think her name is. She even used some of her stock of spirit water.”

“Great, more scar tissue,” Korra said, picking at the bandage on the side of her head with her free hand. “That’s not fair. I’m sure they did their best. I’m just so tired of people trying to blow me up.”

“I think the building was the target, not us. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone there at the time, the way Aunt Lin tells it. Lots of bad luck all around. At least no one else was in the building, they were all outside.”

“Yeah. Bad luck. You know, that little rock got stuck so deep in my head I thought I saw my dad after the explosion.” Korra laughed, and found out the hard way that her abdomen was still very sore. “Must’ve rattled my brain real bad.”

Kuvira cocked an eyebrow. “Your father _is_ here, Korra. He and President Tenzin were on Pepper when he crashed. They’re both okay,” she added quickly.

“Huh…I thought it felt awfully real. Can you help me up?”

“Korra,” Kuvira began.

“I’m not going to try and storm off again, I just want to stand up. My butt is sore. How long have I been in here, anyway?”

“Three days. Here, let’s get you moving a bit.”

She took Korra’s hands and eased her to the side of the bed, carefully picking her up and setting her legs on the cold floor. Korra stood there for a moment in her embrace, enjoying the feeling of being held. When Kuvira backed away, keeping her arms out in case she had to catch her, Korra took an unsteady step, ready to grab something if she lost her balance.

Much to her surprise, after the initial head rush and apart from soreness in her stomach and the side of her head, she felt remarkably normal. That spirit water was strong stuff, Korra thought. She took a few more steps, falling into her regular gait, and even tried bending. A clear bag full of saline nearby lifted off the counter, and sparks crackled around her scarred fingers.

“Well, that still works,” she said to a grinning Kuvira. She turned around and saw the rest of the room. It didn’t look much like a hospital ward. A small desk was pushed up against one wall, stacks of paper piled on either side. There was another bed, certainly, but none of the machinery she would expect to see was near it. A rose gold crown inlaid with silver and onyx sat on its nightstand. “Were you…living here?”

“I didn’t want you to wake up alone,” Kuvira said sheepishly. “Ambassador Lian’s gotten very used to having meetings in here. Asami’s been here when she isn’t helping the police hunt down the rest of the Equalists, too.”

Korra smiled and fell against her, wrapping her arms around Kuvira’s shoulders. “You’re such a dork.”

“I’m _your_ dork.”

She couldn’t say anymore before Korra pulled her into a deep kiss. Kuvira was so comfortably warm, so assuredly strong that she wanted to lose herself in her arms. The gown they gave her was thin, and she pressed up against her girlfriend, desperate to make up for three days of lost time and be as close to her as she could.

Much like Opal, Chief Tonraq didn’t seem to believe in knocking on doors. Maybe it was the tray of food in his hands. Korra heard the creak of the hinges, and could only give her father a sidelong glance while her tongue was halfway down Kuvira’s throat. They both looked at him and froze, hoping to perhaps melt into the ground or disappear, but instead he became fascinated with the lace of his boot as he slowly stepped out of the room.

Korra pulled away and rested her head on Kuvira’s shoulder. When she was quite sure that she wasn’t going to die of embarrassment, she almost had to laugh despite herself. “Our kissing seems to attract people.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”

“Let me go talk to him for a minute.” She went to the door and turned the handle before glancing back. “Did I mention this is sort of the second time we’ve met in twenty years?”

Tonraq had retreated to the nurses station, drumming his fingers on his lap. He glanced at Korra as she approached, both of them blushing deeply enough to show red through their skin, and he stood as she nervously approached him.

“Hi, Dad,” she said, feeling a sudden lump in her throat. “It’s good to see you…did you meet the new Earth Queen yet?”

She hugged her father, not knowing if he would withdraw or not, but he put his arms around her and patted her on the back. The warmth from him hit her, a welcome change from the chilly hospital corridor.

“You can relax, Korra. I’ve seen the newspapers. Even if I hadn’t, her moving into your hospital room would’ve tipped me off. It was more surprising that you were up and about already, honest.”

Tonraq was an awful liar, but she appreciated his attempt to reduce her mortification all the same. Still, if he had seen the papers, that meant Asami had, too. Everyone would have seen it. Her stomach tightened a bit at the thought. “How come you’re in Republic City? Is Mom here?”

“No, she’s running things at the South Pole. I was coming back from your uncle’s funeral and stopped here to take on supplies. Your friend Mako said you were due back soon, so I decided to stay. The president’s family was very accommodating. I was on my way with him to the embassy when that bomb exploded and you stumbled out of City Hall.”

Korra wasn’t exactly sure she would call Mako her friend. Prisoner, certainly. Acquaintance or teammate—no, friend worked, she realized. He was too dependable to be anything else. The realization made her sink happily into Tonraq’s vest.

“I’m glad you’re here, Dad.”

“Me too, sweetie. I’m so glad you’re okay.” He hugged her tighter, then paused. “Korra?”

“Hmm?”

“You need a shower,” he said, as diplomatically as he could.

She sniffed under her arm and cringed. “Yeah. Come on, you don’t have to wait out here. Is that your food?”

Tonraq took the tray from the counter and followed her back to her room. “It was for the queen, actually. She hasn’t been eating unless someone brings it in. Won’t even go down to the cafeteria in case you woke up while she wasn’t there. It’d be self-destructive if she couldn’t have that ambassador bring lunches. She must really love you.”

That stopped Korra in her tracks, and she almost stumbled forward when the lip of the food tray bumped into her back. Her heart tightened up, and a tingling warmth ran through her chest as she started walking again. “I, uh…yeah.”

_She must really love you._

Kuvira was at her desk, stamping a royal seal several times on a form with very tiny print when they returned. She snapped to her feet and cleared her throat as Korra came up and kissed her on the cheek. “At ease, Sergeant,” she whispered.

“Good to see you again, Chief. Korra, Asami brought you some new clothes, they’re in the bag by your bed.”

“Your Majesty,” Tonraq said with a small nod.

“Please, ‘Kuvira’ is fine. I don’t intend on holding onto the crown for very long.”

Korra took the bag and retreated into the bathroom attached to her ward while they continued to talk. Politics, probably. Nothing she was very interested in overhearing. She glanced in the mirror before turning on the shower. They had shaved away a good deal of the hair on the side of her head to get at the stone lodged there, and in its place was a thin white line running from her ear to her eyebrow.

“More scar tissue,” she said.

The hot shower did wonders for her, and Korra stood under the stream for much longer than was necessary after washing herself, just to imagine all the ash and soot falling away. Droplets beat down along her skin, through her hair and along her scars. When it started getting cold, she shut the faucet, bent the remaining water down the drain, and looked in the mirror again.

Her hair was uneven, she realized. It couldn’t have been their intention, they cleared away what they had to so they could perform surgery, but it still bothered her. She looked in the bag Asami brought, and sure enough there was a small toiletry kit on top of some fresh clothes with a safety razor and a pair of scissors inside.

She tried mirroring the hairline on the other side of her head, but she decided that looked stupid. _Maybe a little higher off the sides…_

When she was done, there was a great deal of hair on the floor around her feet, and the sides of her head were almost completely shaved down. The back tapered to a sharp point, ending above the nape of her neck. She was proud of getting that right without being able to see it, at least. Korra rummaged for a tie in the bag, fixed her remaining hair in a high, tight ponytail, and got dressed.

The new clothes were much like her old ones, but slightly softer and with a heavier feel to them. A slot for a knife, which she also found in the toiletry bag, fit snugly on the inside of one boot. Her pants even had built-in loops to accommodate water skins, which she also found in the bag and filled from the sink. The detached sleeves were different, though. While they were the same style, the new sleeves were a lighter, more permeable fabric that stretched with the tug of her fingers. She slipped one over her scarred arm and found that, while the baseline level of discomfort was still there, it did nothing to irritate the skin like the old one had.

_Korra, I repurposed some strike-resistant fabric from our labs. Won’t stop a knife, but your arms and torso should feel a lot more durable now. Not that you needed the help. Hope I got all the measurements right. –Asami_

She smiled as she read the note a few more times before tucking it into her pants pocket. After carefully blowing all of her shorn hair into the trash, Korra took one last look in the mirror and finally liked what she saw. Other than the hair, she looked like her old self again. She looked strong. She _felt_ strong.

The door clicked shut behind her, and Kuvira and her father looking at her brought on a sudden and unwelcome rush of self-consciousness. “So…how’s it look?”

“Wolf tail,” Tonraq said approvingly. “Very nice.”

“How did you get that kind of symmetry?” Kuvira asked, tilting her head.

“Not sure. Avatar power. Will they try and haul me back in here if I leave? This is a lot more time than I planned on staying in Republic City, and we still have to deal with getting the army.”

“We’ve gotten that taken care of,” Kuvira said. “General Iroh and Admiral Yin—my cousin, actually—are going to lead the peacekeeping force. My mother’s going with them…she asked me not to come.”

She chewed on her tongue for a moment, gazing downcast at her boots. “They don’t want to lose another queen,” Kuvira said.

“Are you and her okay?” Korra asked. “I can’t imagine she took all this well.”

“We’ll be fine. I think she needs time to adjust. Asami, Mako and I will be ready to leave first thing in the morning. So we’re all set then, Chief?”

Tonraq nodded. “I’ll have ships dispatched to the southern coast and Kyoshi Island as soon as I get back. Just make sure they know we’re coming.”

“They’ll know. Thankfully most of the infrastructure aside from Ba Sing Se is still standing…”

After her healer, a bubbly young woman named Kaede, finally cleared her to leave, Korra helped Kuvira pack up her things and took the elevator down with her and Tonraq. Lin was strolling into the lobby as they arrived, or at least walking as casually as she could, considering her leg brace.

“Welcome back,” she said, trying very hard not to show that she was leaning on a row of chairs for support.

“Aunt Lin? I thought you were at home,” Kuvira said, adjusting the crown on her arm.

“Can’t go home. Your mom got the rest of your family in this morning. There are Beifongs everywhere in my house. My mom won’t stop complaining about how the furniture feels, your dad almost burned my kitchen down, and those brothers of yours I can’t tell apart keep trying to build some kind of sports pit in the backyard.”

“Hey, Lin.” Korra popped one of her water skins open and floated out almost half of the water inside. “Open up the armor on your leg.”

“I told you, this is all my healer could do and she’s one of the best.”

“Just do it!”

Lin rolled her eyes, retracted the armor over her calf, and rolled up the fabric over her leg. The skin there was a sickly purple, twisted up where it had burned and fused to the metal. She clenched her jaw and looked away, making every effort not to meet the gazes of the people around them.

Korra knelt down, placed the water over her calf, and let the white glow block out her eyes. The water glowed as it moved up and down the skin, so brightly that the entire room lit up. She kept the water cycling for several minutes, focusing on her work, before the light faded and she snaked it back into the water skin on her hip. Some pitting remained on her skin, but the discoloration was gone.

Slowly, unbelievingly, Lin put weight on her leg, and Korra actually saw her break out in a smile. Once her armor was all back in its proper position, Lin threw her arms around Korra, struggling to hold back tears. When she remembered herself—and the polite applause of the people in the lobby caught up to her—she took a step back and rubbed the back of her neck.

“No more leg brace, huh?” Korra asked with a grin.

“I…thank you, Korra,” she said with a deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you.”

“Now that I helped you out, you’re not going to do anything about Jinora, right?”

Lin shrugged. “Why would I? Did she do something?”

“Thanks.”

Korra and Kuvira stepped out of the hospital ahead of Lin and Tonraq, where a small army of reporters and photographers had camped out. Countless lights went off in her face, and she could barely see Mako, Asami and Bolin pushing their way through the sea of people to get up the steps.

“Maybe my calling them tipped off the press,” Kuvira said with an embarrassed smile.

When they finally got past the throng, Asami grabbed them both and pulled them into a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right…love the hair, by the way.”

“Thanks. Wolf tail.” Korra nuzzled into Asami’s shoulder before taking a deep breath. Lilac shampoo, she noted with a flutter in her chest. “And all of your measurements were right.”

“You have the worst luck with bombs,” Mako said. Korra hugged him, too. Hugged her friend. Mako tensed up, but warmly returned her embrace after a moment. “Are you going to do that every time you see me now?”

“Don’t get used to it—hey!”

Bolin nudged his brother aside to shake Korra’s hand, looking at the cameras more than her. All manner of flashes went off in her eyes, and reporters threw questions at her like knives. She noted, with some annoyance, that most of them were about her and Kuvira rather than the state of the Earth Kingdom.

“It wasn’t easy, but the queen and I managed to convince the president to part with a bit more of the United Forces,” Bolin said to her. Korra glanced behind him to Mako, who shook his head. “There’ll be a proper force to help bring some order back to Ba Sing Se and wherever else it’s needed.”

“Well, thanks, Mr. Vice President,” Korra said dryly. “If you’ll excuse us.”

⁂

Though she made a big show of grumbling about it, Lin ultimately offered the remaining guest rooms of her house to Korra, Kuvira and Asami for the one night they were staying. There was one empty bedroom beside her own where she had set two extra beds, and for some reason made a point of mentioning how very thin the walls were before leaving them to their own devices after dinner.

“I guess all the Beifongs live in style,” Korra said, falling backward onto warm, fresh sheets. “No idea why Mako would skip out on a bed like this.”

Kuvira looked in the bag of her things her siblings brought from Zaofu as she began undoing her braid. “Anything would be an upgrade from that hospital cot. I hit the remote one night in my sleep and almost folded myself in half.”

She yelped before she could finish with her hair, leaning back when Korra pressed in behind her. The light kisses on her neck garnered a contented moan, silenced only when they remembered Asami was there with them, leaning against the far wall with a weak smile. “Oh, uh, sorry,” Korra said, still nuzzled into Kuvira’s cheek.

Her voice was wavering, but resolute. “Don’t be. I’m…I’m glad you’re both happy. I actually have to meet with the contractor who’s going to fix up my house. I can’t leave it alone for another month. You never know quite how many windows you have until you have to replace most of them…I’ll be back in the morning. Opal set up a bed for me in her room.”

She left, her footsteps padding off toward the front door. Korra leaned back, fidgeting with the scars on her hand. Kuvira put a hand in her lap. “What now?”

Her brow furrowed, but then an idea hit Korra. “Do you like jazz?”

“When I’m not being pressed into singing it, yes. Why?”

“Mako said he had a place that played it, where did I put his phone number…here it is.” She took the phone in their room from its stand, and Kuvira slipped out for the bathroom while Korra spent several minutes figuring out exactly how to dial a number, jumping in excitement when it began ringing.

“Hello?”

Korra took the handset from her ear and looked at it for a moment, perplexed. “Su?”

“Oh, hi Korra, I was glad to hear you’re up and about. I was in meetings all day with the ambassador, otherwise I would’ve come to the hospital. Diplomats love their meetings. What can I do for you?”

“I was calling Mako, actually. I must’ve mixed up the numbers.”

“No, no.” Korra could hear some muffled movement in the background, but couldn’t place it. “You have the right number. Mako’s a bit tied up right now, that’s why I picked up. Let me get him for you.”

She heard footsteps, and then a rather labored bout of breathing. “Ah…not a great time, Water Tribe.”

“Mako? Are you okay? Why is Su at your house?” Korra asked, idly winding the phone cord around her finger.

“I’m fine, I…I was thinking of redecorating when we get back from the Fire Nation and wanted her opinion on some things. Did you need something?”

“You had mentioned a jazz club you owned around here?” Korra asked.

“Oh, yeah, it’s called ‘Dragon.’ Corner of Shuinan and Jiguang. Big purple sign out front. Tell them I sent you, they’ll take care of you.”

“Mako, you’re all out of breath, are you going to be able to leave in the morning?”

“Of course,” he said, his breathing leveling off. “I’ve got your back, Korra. Beats rotting in a cell, at least. Now I really have to go.”

The line went dead with an unceremonious _click_ , and Kuvira returned a moment later. She noticed Korra’s confused look and put a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Mako was…weird. Well, more than usual. But I got the address, if you want to go.”

She stepped closer and took Korra’s hands in her own. “Who knows how many more opportunities we’ll get to have fun like this? Let’s try and enjoy tonight.”

A pang struck through Korra’s chest, but she ultimately nodded. “Yeah.”

Once they finished fighting their way through the reporters outside Lin’s home and got downtown, Korra realized she had no idea where either cross street Mako had mentioned was. After getting directions, the path was clear enough, and soon they were looking at a rather long line extending from a building with a purple neon dragon on the front. “This is probably it,” Korra said, trying to ignore the people in the line slowly turning toward them.

The doorman became very accommodating once Korra dropped Mako’s name, and they were thankfully led to a private booth on the second floor, where they had an unobstructed view of the stage below and the band as they warmed up. A waitress came out of nowhere and left them a bottle of sake and a pair of glasses before vanishing again, leaving them by themselves as the first few notes hummed out over the speakers.

Korra filled both glasses and slid one over. “Here. I won’t even try to get you to sing.”

“How sweet of you.” She clinked her glass to Korra’s and belted it back, drawing out a hiss as it went down. “To one hell of a day.”

“Aren’t you supposed to do that _before_ you drink it?”

“Usually.” Kuvira leaned against Korra, resting her cheek on Korra’s shoulder. “But it really has been a long day and I didn’t want to wait. I agreed to an interview that didn’t accomplish anything that I wanted, I gave my permission to open the borders to the United Forces and the Southern Water Tribe Navy…just pour me another drink, please.”

She did so, and Korra swished her own glass before letting it burn its way down her throat. Warmth slowly spread from her stomach to her fingers and toes. “To one hell of a day.”

She made a mental note to thank Mako—begrudgingly, of course—for the special treatment. Deep, rhythmic music filled the air, giving them something to focus on while they sat and kissed and touched. Korra quietly pushed the bottle away after three drinks, mindful of the early morning she had planned, and Kuvira didn’t seem to notice when her glass was never refilled.

“I still can’t believe you moved into a hospital room,” Korra said, wavering in her seat while her chest grew lighter as the drinks began to catch up with her.

Kuvira shrugged, almost curled up into Korra’s side. “What can I say? I can’t resist the smell of gauze and formaldehyde.”

“Dork.” Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart beat a little faster. “That’s why I love you.”

Her stomach did a somersault as the words slipped past her lips, and Kuvira slowly turned so that she was facing Korra. Her cheeks flushed red while she blinked a few times. Korra took a deep breath, fidgeting with her hands, and Kuvira leaned forward and kissed her, hard. There was little grace to it, drunk as they were, and instead it was all passion, messy and wet and wonderful all at once. Kuvira cupped her cheeks, and while there was little space between Korra and their table, Kuvira managed to swing her leg over so that she was straddling Korra.

She put her arms around Kuvira’s waist to keep her there, and small points of moisture trickled down onto her cheeks. Korra pulled back and saw she was shuddering, tears slowly rolling down her face. “Kuvira?”

“Say it.” Her hands ran up into what remained of Korra’s hair, carefully avoiding the stitches still in her temple. “Say it again…”

Korra pressed her forehead to Kuvira’s, holding her as close as she possibly could. Their breaths were ragged, unsteady, expectant. She waited for another jolt of excitement to pass through her body before she trusted herself to speak again.


	30. Strain

Waking up in a haze and to a face full of hair made Korra decide that she much preferred being the little spoon. She tried to work herself free, but one arm was stuck under Kuvira’s side, and she was still fast asleep. Korra looked out the window and saw the sun peeking over the mountains outside the city, sending her into a panic.

“Hey, wake up!”

Kuvira only grumbled and latched tighter to the arm she had claimed. “Come on, Kuvira—”

She rocked back and forth to no avail, knocking against the wall and losing the sheets to the floor. Korra shook the rest of Kuvira’s hair out of her face, moving her head up just enough to see the door open.

“Oh, hey Lin,” she said, remembering that they were both quite naked.

Lin only rolled her eyes. “Quit hitting the wall. So tired of people having more fun than me in my own house…”

The door slid shut again. Korra put her free arm around Kuvira and sat them both up, jostling her enough to rouse her. “Okay, up and at them, we have assassinations to stop.”

“Ugh, my head,” she said through a groan, pinching the bridge of her nose as she did. “How much sake did we drink?”

“Probably too much. Let’s get ready, I wanted to be gone by now. And we have to go wrangle Mako, I have no idea where he is. Where _is_ his house, anyway?”

“Please stop talking so loud.”

Once they got some water, their minds cleared up a bit, and they were able to get themselves ready to go. Kuvira had only a small rucksack that would stow easily enough, and Lin had lent Korra a satchel to replace the shredded bag laying in what remained of City Hall. As much fun as Korra thought it would be to shower together, they were in such a rush that it was remarkably utilitarian and devoted more to lessening their hangovers.

None of Kuvira’s siblings were quite sure how to address her until she slipped the crown off her arm and stuffed it in her bag. Even then, their rushed breakfast was thick with tension, broken only when Su wandered into the kitchen with mussed hair and light bags under her eyes. Asami came in shortly after from the room she had shared with Opal, packed and ready to go. Lin pursed her lips and poured her sister a cup of coffee as she sat beside her husband.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Kuvira asked, picking at a few leftover baozi.

“Not much sleep. I’ll have to catch up in the convoy.” She worked a kink out of her neck and sipped at her coffee. “It’ll be a while before we get anywhere near Ba Sing Se.”

Opal shifted in her seat and glanced at her brothers and father. “Do you really have to go there? You didn’t hear the reports that came in before we left Zaofu. It’s a warzone.”

“We agreed on Earth Kingdom oversight for the peacekeeping operation, so yes, I have to. I doubt I’ll be in the thick of it, honey.”

“That’ll be my job anyway,” Lin said, checking one of the straps on her armor.

They all looked at her. “You’re coming too?” Su asked.

“Why not? It’s a police action, there should be some police there. My leg’s fine now, and Hian’s doing an okay job running things here. There’s something I want to be well away from the station for, so it’s either go with the army or stay here with Mom.”

Su shuddered. “Point taken.”

“I heard that,” Toph shouted from her room.

Korra slid her satchel strap over her head and onto her shoulder. “We should get down there.”

The drive to the south end of the city after they said their goodbyes was quiet, as if all of them were waiting for someone else to say something. Kuvira kept sneaking glances at her mother, who seemed very interested in the buildings rushing by the car window. Lin drummed her fingers on her lap and looked over every so often at Asami as she navigated them through the morning traffic.

Korra looked at her too, or at least at the part of her head she could see from the back seat. She was either handling things well, or had learned not to wear her upset as openly as she had after being saddled with airbending. How conceited, Korra thought, to imagine she and Kuvira would affect her on the same scale as that.

Still, she found herself concerned. Asami was one of her only friends, her first friend, and she cared deeply about her well-being. Maybe more than her own. At the same time, her hand unconsciously found Kuvira’s, clasping and fitting together with comforting familiarity. With love.

_Everything was so much simpler when all I had to do was train._

Asami pulled the car into the staging area at the southern city limits. There were a dozen large airships moored in two neat rows, and more trucks than Korra could count dotted the spaces between them. A smaller airship was anchored on the other side of the area, and in between them a few people milled about. Reporters and photographers were outside of the main area, hurling questions.

The car slowed to a halt, and they filed out as Korra looked around. Mako was there, and he straightened up when he saw them approaching. Tonraq, Tenzin and Bolin were with him, as well as a man and a woman in military uniforms that Korra didn’t know. All of them nodded respectfully as Kuvira stepped out of the back of the car.

“Please, that’s not necessary,” she said, reaching back to tug at the base of her braid. “I’m not going to get used to that.”

Bolin took a step forward, and the man and woman beside him did the same. “Avatar Korra, Your Majesty, this is General Iroh and Admiral Yin. He’ll be directing the ground and air forces, she has command of the naval units standing by on the north coast.”

“The queen and I met already,” Yin said. She was taller than them, and even a bit taller than Asami, with dark green eyes and gray-streaked black hair pulled back into a tight, severe bun. “Cousin. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Avatar Korra. The Second Fleet will head around the northern coast and link up with the Southern Water Tribe forces near Shanbei, as we discussed.”

Kuvira nodded and inched closer to Korra. The same tamped-down impulses from her youth threatened to bubble up, and she took a moment to compose herself and shrug it off. “Admiral. General. Please just call me Korra. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet you earlier, I was indisposed.” That seemed like the best way to put it. “But I’m glad to see you here. When everything’s done in the Fire Nation, I’ll be lending whatever support I can in the Earth Kingdom.”

“We appreciate that, Korra,” Iroh said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Apprehension marked his features, which were otherwise quite attractive, she thought. “Ah, my family—the royal family, rather—please keep them safe.”

“I intend to.”

There was something she never thought she would ever say. But then, Korra thought as her fingers drifted toward Kuvira’s, there were a great many things happening that she never imagined. She hugged her father tightly, leaving Kuvira to stand awkwardly beside her. “Oh, you too, Your Majesty,” he said, sweeping her up as well. She yelped as she crushed in against Korra, but tentatively returned his hug after a moment. “You come back home after this, Korra. I can’t lose you again.”

“I will, Dad. We’ll go ice dodging.” She nuzzled into his chest, wondering if she would ever get the chance.

Mako tapping on his watch got her out of her reverie. “I know I don’t have a fancy title like Admiral or Chief or anything, but there’s a storm coming in from the north and we don’t want to get caught in it.”

“Right. Is that us?” Korra asked, pointing to the smaller airship set away from the others.

Asami nodded. “One _Raiden_ -class fast-attack interceptor, fresh out of my workshop. I didn’t even get a chance to name it yet.”

“ _Pepper_ ,” Korra said. “Its name is _Pepper_. Let’s head out.”

There were a few political niceties to observe, and Korra and Kuvira made their formal goodbyes to Tenzin, Bolin, Yin and Iroh. Kuvira nearly jumped into her mother’s arms, ignoring whatever discomfort they had let simmer for the past few days, and Su hugged her in return, wrapping her arms around her daughter and squeezing. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, honey. We’ll see each other soon.”

Lin took a reluctant hug from her as well as Su pecked Mako on the cheek, out of sight of both of them, but not a bewildered Korra and Asami. “Come back in one piece,” she whispered, quietly enough so that she thought no one else could hear.

“Sure thing,” Mako mumbled, his face thoroughly red.

Korra was still trying to puzzle that out while Su shook her and Asami’s hands. That looked to be everyone, but then Lin came up to Mako. Her usual scowl faltered as she stepped closer to him.

“I know, I know, back in jail as soon as we’re done. You don’t have to remind me. Again.”

Lin didn’t say anything at first, and instead slowly put her arms around him in the most awkward hug any of them had ever seen. They all looked shocked, but no one more so than Mako, who could only stand stock-still while his eyes began to water. He hugged her back, shaking through ragged breaths.

“You have so much potential,” she said, her voice thick from biting back tears of her own. “ _Have_. Not _had_.”

She tried to ease away, but he stayed in place and won out. A few more moments passed before they separated, and Mako tried and failed to inconspicuously wipe his eyes dry. Asami smiled and nudged his arm as they started for their airship. Korra glanced over at the press nearby. “We’ve dealt with them?”

“As far as they know, we’re heading back into the Earth Kingdom,” Kuvira said. “I made the interview very convincing. Once we’re in the air, we can turn around and head west. No one else knows we’re going to the Fire Nation.”

“Good. If Zaheer thinks he has room to breathe, he might slip up. Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

They followed Mako and Asami up the airship’s gangplank. It was modestly appointed, dotted with the occasional luxury while still being very obviously a military craft. A small kitchenette and bathroom replaced the bomb storage, and above the storage cabinets were four tatami beds. Two short benches faced one another right behind the controls, and a table popped up between them to set food on.

“Asami, you did this in three days?” Korra asked, setting her bag down against a cabinet full of flares.

“I was helping direct the Equalist raids,” she said while turning dials and flipping switches at the controls. “A bunch of Future Industries engineers worked nights. We should have enough food and fuel to make it well into the Fire Nation, if not all the way to Kasai. There are pontoons that inflate on the fuselage so we can land on the water at night, too.”

Kuvira hit the button to retract the gangplank while the rotors began spinning up. “This really is amazing…how far do you think we have to go with the convoy?”

The ship lurched around them, and they began to rise. On the other side of the field, the larger craft were gaining altitude as well, and the sound of dozens of trundling truck engines split the silence that had otherwise claimed the morning.

“Probably only a few minutes,” Asami said, spinning the wheel until they faced east. “We’ll get above the clouds and then double back.”

Mako fought back a yawn and looked around the kitchen. “They said refugees were already starting to arrive the other day. Hope they brought a big enough army.”

“Thank you again for the relief centers,” Kuvira said.

Korra cocked an eyebrow. She hated missing things while in hospitals. “What, did he get Bolin to spring for them?”

“No, he wouldn’t go for it, so I paid for them.” Mako looked back at Korra. “I know what it’s like not to have a home. Don’t tell anyone, I have my reputation to think about.”

Rain began to patter down the _Pepper_ ’s envelope, leaving it to drizzle along the windows that lined all the walls. Asami kept them on a steady ascent into the approaching storm, blending into the flotilla assembling over the trucks. Korra watched out a side window as they rose even higher and broke through the cloud cover casting a shroud over Republic City.

“Okay, we’re out of sight. That was faster than I thought it would be.” Asami brought the wheel around again, setting them westward and moving forward at a steady clip. “With any luck, the storm will keep us hidden. Don’t need anyone wiring ahead about a rogue airship.”

Their luck held for the first time, and the clouds covered their departure until they were well over the Mo Ce Sea. Korra breathed a sigh of relief, and Mako crawled up to one of the beds while Kuvira joined Asami at the helm. Korra snuck up behind him on the narrow ladder and rolled onto the bed adjacent to the one he had claimed.

He cracked one bleary eye and curled up tighter around a pillow. “Wouldn’t usually complain about a girl trying to get into bed with me, but I really just want to sleep right now, Water Tribe.”

A flush built up on her cheeks and the back of her neck. “Yeah, don’t flatter yourself. What’s going on with you and Su?”

“Nothing. In case you didn’t notice, she and Lin were heading in the opposite direction.”

Korra whacked him on the arm. “Knock it off. Last night. What was that? I called and you sounded like you ran a marathon.”

“I like to think I have a little more stamina than that…there was a nice rug I was thinking about getting when we’re through in the Fire Nation and I get out of jail, I wanted a woman’s opinion on how it’d look in my living room. You’ve never seen my place, but I have no talent for interior design. She helped me out last night. Three times,” he added with a smirk.

“You really expect me to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you want. As much as I’m sure you’d love to sit here and listen to how much of a wreck I really am and how Su helps with that by acting like she actually gives a damn, I’m tired. Go hang out with your girlfriends. It’s a long way to Kasai.”

“Girlfriend,” Korra corrected. “I told you that.”

“Yeah, well, call it what you like. Asami’s still got it bad for you, but I think you knew that already.”

“Don’t get on me about this, okay? You have no idea how complicated this stuff can get.”

“I don’t know, I once met these twins from the Northern Water Tribe—you know what, you’re probably the last person who wants to hear about that,” Mako said, pausing for a moment to reminisce.

“Look, Kuvira and I had a good time at your club last night, so I’m not going to press this, but don’t bring up her mom, okay? That’s a whole other mess we don’t need hanging over us right now.”

Mako nodded, closed his eyes, and was asleep before Korra finished climbing down the ladder. Loathe as she still was to agree with him about anything, she was tired. The early morning she wanted had been foiled by a late night, and while that was fine by her, she found her eyelids growing heavier and heavier. She laid down on one of the benches and nestled in there, looking at Kuvira and Asami with a smile as she drifted off.

⁂

Her breathing was all that surrounded her, the only meager point of reference in a womb of nothingness. She tried straightening out, but she might as well have tried moving through stone for all the good it did her. Korra’s heart began to race, throbbing painfully in her chest, and she strained harder and harder to break free.

When she forced her eyes open, she found herself laying in a field of rolling hills and strange, faintly glowing violet flowers. There was an unnatural stillness to the place, and as she stood up she saw the land around her contorting into shapes that could never exist, fading into colors she had no names for. “Spirit World,” she murmured, taking an uncertain step forward.

The ground lurched beneath her, rippling as if it were water with a pebble dropped in. Korra gasped as the vibrant flowers withered around her, blackened petals curling and twisting before the whole field fell dead.

_The Avatar shouldn’t be a murderer._

_All you are is a failure._

_Do you feel like a hero yet, Avatar?_

She pressed her hands to the sides of her head, trying to shake it clear while the words clung and gnawed at her. Korra cried out and stumbled blindly forward, giving no mind to where she might be going. With each step more and more flowers died, until even the grass underneath them turned a sickly, lifeless brown. “Stop it, stop it, stop it…I’m a good Avatar, I am…”

_You’re nothing but a foolish, shortsighted woman._

It was her own voice mocking her, she realized. Her voice worming the words into her ear, trying to find purchase in the cracks the same way Zaheer had for so many years. She fell—least she thought she fell, there was no feeling but she wound up on the ground regardless—and when she tried to stand, everything looked taller, or so it seemed. Korra looked down at herself and saw no scars, no armor. Only the simple gray tunic she wore as a child hanging from her four year-old frame.

Everything around her rumbled, sending her to the ground and splitting her lip on the stone underneath her. The salty, metallic taste of blood dribbled onto her tongue as hard earthen walls rose around her, shutting out the twilight and leaving her barely enough room to sit up.

 _A nightmare_ , she thought. _Or a memory_. She had to test it to be sure. Korra reached out into the stone and tried to bend her way out, but there was only a weak prickling at the base of her spine, not the rush of energy there should have been. A memory, then. Chi-blocked and trapped in a box to force her to overcome her fear of the dark, left there all night while they pretended to be deaf to her cries. Panic set in just as it had so many years ago, and her throat felt tight as she clawed at the walls until her fingers left wet red streaks everywhere they touched. She tried to wipe her eyes dry, but only succeeded in smearing blood all over her face.

Korra wasn’t sure how long she remained in there, and only began to notice anything when she felt the walls closing in on her. She shrieked, her juvenile voice running raw in her throat, and struck back against the walls as they began pressing her into a painful curl. Her toes ground against the floor in a useless attempt to stop the advance, and her arms bent back on themselves as she tried to hold the walls at bay. Her voice blew out from screaming, and all she could manage were painful, muted sobs.

And then the walls turned to dust around her, fading away as quickly as they had sprung up. Her voice was still gone, but the rest of her seemed fine. She was back in her home, or what it had been before exploding, in the same corner of the kitchen where she had been chi-blocked and confined every night for three weeks. Everything was still bathed in twilight as if no time had passed at all, and a quick glance out the window told her she was back on their island with no fields of dead flowers in sight.

She tried waking up, to no avail. Rapid blinking, pinching her arm, looking at the writing of the to-do list on the counter…it all failed to rouse her. “It’s a dream, it’s a dream,” she repeated over and over as she wandered through the house. Everything was exactly as she remembered it the day she left, apart from the fact that she was the only one there and it was deathly quiet.

Her foot snagged on an edge of the carpet and she fell to her knees, breaking her fall on something cold and stiff. Korra’s gaze traced down to her once-more scarred hands, which she found wrapped around Ming-Hua’s lifeless neck. Red pooled around her head, mottled in some places with bits of pink leaking from the back of her skull. She retched and heaved, losing mouthful after mouthful of thick, black, burning bile before falling on her side into a pile of charred bones—what was left of Ghazan, she assumed. Korra swiped at them, letting the bones clatter into the wall and stand watch while she seized.

There was no noise when she tried to scream, only a raw and painful rubbing in her throat. She looked at her hands as they jerked forward under their own power, her agency gone. Red ran along the scars on her arms, replacing the off-white with scarlet that dripped down in the shape of lotus petals.

_You are a tool. These are our hands, not yours._

Four voices in tandem, voices she recognized, scratching along inside her ears like so many knives. She pounded her head against the floor, trembling while the red lotus petals continued falling from her arms, engulfing her.

_You’re as much a part of the Red Lotus as we are._

One voice. Zaheer’s voice, ringing out in her head while she laid buried under the petals.

_Drag your friends along to find us if you must. And then there will only be one member left. You. And they will turn on you, just like you turned on us. Fall on your sword and save them the trouble._

⁂

“Korra! Korra!”

She awoke with a strangled breath, feeling the leather of the bench pressing on her cheek. Her heart was racing, pounding so fast and so hard she thought it might break right through her chest. Tears dotted her vision before rolling down her face, changing direction as she sat up. Kuvira and Asami were in front of her, standing there without being quite sure what to do. She looked at her arm, and was never so happy to see the plain off-white of her scars there.

“Guys?”

“Are you okay?” Asami asked, putting a light hand on Korra’s shoulder. “You were screaming bloody murder in your sleep, we couldn’t wake you up.”

“Nightmare,” she mumbled, swallowing a few times to make sure everything was working properly. The sun had set, and all she could see out the windows was inky blackness and the occasional indicator light on the exterior of the fuselage. “How long was I out?”

“Twelve hours, almost,” Kuvira said. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You didn’t start shouting until a few minutes ago.”

“Sorry. It was a really bad one.”

“Yeah, we gathered that.” Mako popped up the table in front of her bench with his foot and set a plate of food in front of her. “Here, I made dinner. There’s some chocolate in the cabinet over there, it helps with this kind of thing.”

Korra looked down at the plate, and while it looked slightly reheated, it seemed more than edible, even appetizing. “You cook?”

He shrugged and put utensils beside the plate. “You’d be surprised how much of a turn-on that can be.”

Asami and Kuvira both nodded, if only reluctantly.

When the pontoons had inflated and the _Pepper_ touched down, rolling lightly with the waves, Korra climbed up onto one of the storage cabinets and pushed the two tatami beds there together. Twelve-hour nap notwithstanding, she was dead tired, and felt her eyelids growing heavy as soon as Kuvira laid down beside her. One arm came over her side, squeezing protectively as Kuvira pressed into her back. Asami shut down the last of the controls and climbed up beside Mako, pausing for a moment before pulling her bed slightly away from his.

Everything was silent, and sleep should have come easily, but Korra only laid awake for hours. The airship rocked with the gentle motion of the waves, which should have soothed her, while her mind raced and the lingering words in her head played over and over.

_You are a tool._

_You’re as much a part of the Red Lotus as we are._

_Fall on your sword and save them the trouble._

Kuvira nuzzled into her neck, and Korra took a deep breath, wondering if she really was damaged beyond repair, wondering just how many Red Lotus members had to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I threw some locations at you in this one, [here](http://i.imgur.com/Dp7MUx5.jpg) is the map I use.


	31. Triad

Mako sat up when he awoke, purely out of habit, and struck his head on the top of the airship’s cabin, just as he had every morning since their departure. He groaned and rubbed the same spot on his forehead, imagining that it would only take a few more days until he had a permanent red blotch there. With a yawn, he shuffled over to the ladder and climbed down, grabbing a fresh set of clothes from the laundry Korra had done the night before when a gust of wind hit the ship and rocked them. They were already in the air, then. He looked around and saw Asami at the helm and Kuvira reading on one of the benches, while a wave of heat hit him from behind. The unpleasant smell of burning food came with it, and Korra was there when he turned around, still in panties and an undershirt, holding a flame much too close to the bottom of a pot of miso soup.

“What are you doing?”

“Heating up breakfast, what’s it look like I’m doing?”

“It sure _smells_ like you’re charring it, give it here,” he said, taking the pot by the handle. Korra huffed and glared at him, but Mako only took a ladle and sampled a spoonful. “We can still salvage it. You added something, though.”

“I threw in a couple of those.” Korra pointed to a small bottle of crushed brown and green pericarps. “They smelled good.”

“The peppercorns? Okay, that’ll compliment the lemon in the broth. Adds a little bite.” He ignited a small flame in his palm and held it at a more appropriate length from the bottom of the pot, moving in slow circles while the broth simmered. “See? Back and forth, low heat. It doesn’t have to get really bubbly. You try.”

He took her hand and slipped the fire over to her. Mako lightly gripped her wrist and guided her through the same motions, running his thumb along the heel of her palm as he did. He thought there would be more calluses to match the old scars that lined her left arm, but her skin there was surprisingly smooth and warm.

“And that should do it. Stir in a little bit of salt and coriander, and you’re done,” Mako said, handing the pot back to her. She took it with a shaky hand, and he saw that she was breathing heavily and trying very hard not to show it. _Definitely a turn-on_ , he thought while suppressing a smirk. “I’m going to shower, is the tank full?”

“Yeah, I boiled most of the salt out of it,” she mumbled, setting the pot back on the stovetop.

Mako put his fresh clothes on the shelf, pulled back the curtain that afforded the barest shred of privacy, and stripped down before transferring some heat to the tank above him. Once his fingers stung from the warmth, he opened the faucet and let the water beat down on his head and shoulders. It was far from the lap of luxury, but still impressive, given the short time Asami’s team had been given to make the airship habitable.

He worked quickly, letting the water soak him and then stopping the flow to apply soap and shampoo. An uncomfortable chill settled around him without the water, and he only slowed down when he cleaned the remnants of the wolf bite on his arm and a particularly deep bite mark Su had left on his shoulder the night before they departed.

The water flowed again for a few brief moments to wash everything away, and then he was toweling off, knocking over one of Asami’s bottles of nice shampoo in the process. A small, petty part of him was glad they never ended up moving in together. He reached around the curtain and grabbed his fresh clothes, trying his best not to knock against the walls of the cramped shower as he dressed.

When he stepped out, he saw the others at the table, finishing off the remains of the miso soup he had made the night before. No one was retching or complaining, which was success enough for him. He emptied the last bit in the pot into his bowl and took the empty seat next to Asami. “What’d you put in this?” she asked between mouthfuls. “It’s really good.”

“Not me, the peppercorns were all Korra. I only kept her from burning it all to hell.”

“Oh,” Asami and Kuvira said together, looking down at their soup. Korra shrank in her seat, and Kuvira tapped the side of her bowl. “That’s what that was. I always wondered why the leftovers tasted so…different.”

“Ghazan was the cook, not me.”

“Wait, she’s been burning everything before I wake up? How come you didn’t say anything?”

“ _She’s_ right here,” Korra said indignantly.

Kuvira shrugged. “It didn’t taste as bad as army rations. Besides, we don’t really talk, actually. And I didn’t want to complain about the cooking when you’ve been doing all of it this week.”

Mako took a sip of his miso soup and thought about that. She was right, they were certainly polite enough to one another, but Korra had been mediating all of their communication beyond “good morning” and “good night.” He knew she didn’t want any mention of Su to come up, even if she didn’t quite grasp what Mako had told her.

“That’s true, you were hanging out with Korra in Zaofu and we split up after that. Huh. Guess I don’t have much practice talking to queens. Well…great eyebrows,” he said, wracking his brain for _something_ to say. Kuvira smiled and set her spoon in her bowl.

“Thanks. You too.”

An unpleasant bout of remembrance hit Mako as he looked at the unoccupied helm. “Asami?”

“Yes?”

“Who’s flying the ship?”

“Autopilot,” she said, nodding to the controls.

“Oh. Fancy. We didn’t have that on the way back to Republic City, Su just let it drift one morning—”

He caught a fearsome look from Korra that went unnoticed by Kuvira, who seemed rather interested once he mentioned her mother. There was no good way to finish that sentence truthfully— _let it drift one morning while she felt me up in the infirmary_ —and so he had to stumble through a recovery. “But we didn’t crash or hit anything, so…you know. No harm done.”

Asami stirred her tea. “Scintillating. Look, with all the cooking—which is fine by the way, don’t stop doing that—we’re going to have to take on supplies soon.” She took a map of the Fire Nation from her bag and spread it across the table while Korra, Kuvira and Mako scrambled to get their breakfasts out of the way. Asami pointed to a stretch of water slightly northwest of Huanhe Island. “This is about where we are. If we dip south, there’s a town on the coast here where we can stock up. The name’s right in the crease though, I can’t read it.”

“Zheifei,” Mako said. “That’s Zheifei. About two thousand people, most people either go out on the fishing boats or work for one of the mining companies farther inland. Spicy carp trout’s a local specialty, along with some kind of fiery sake.”

They all looked blankly at him. He shrugged. “It’s where my mom grew up. She used to tell me and Bolin about it when she couldn’t think of a bedtime story. We always wanted to go and find the other side of our family like we did in Ba Sing Se…never got the chance.”

He paused for a moment to sigh deeply. “Plus we can hug the northern coasts of the archipelago from there almost all the way to Kasai,” Mako said.

Korra drummed her fingers on the map, skirting toward Asami’s before retreating and falling to her side next to Kuvira. “All right. This isn’t a field trip, though. We need to get to the capital as soon as we can, not go and sample the sake.”

“In and out, no family reunions, no sake, I get it. I know what kind of messes you three get into when you’re drunk, anyway.”

That earned him three withering glares, and he put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture before taking all the empty bowls to the sink. If Korra was going to throw jabs, she had to expect him to come back with a few of his own. He never figured the Avatar for someone who could dish it out but couldn’t take it. He took a magazine he had read through six times out onto the catwalk that encircled the cabin.

Wind hit him as soon as he stepped outside, cold and bracing, but he worked his way to the calmer aft of the walkway, where he had struck upon a pleasant little alcove with a protrusion at exactly the right height for sitting. He tried very hard not to think about the fact that he was sitting on the airship’s septic tank. Halfway through an article he had read so many times he was beginning to see it in his sleep, the door to the cabin slammed shut.

“Oh, here we go…”

“That was out of line,” Asami said, shimmying her way along the precariously narrow catwalk to where he sat. “If I had enough room right now I would slap you silly.”

Mako stood up and crossed his arms. “Good thing for me you’re left-handed, then.”

She was still decent with her right hand, Mako discovered as it sang across his cheek. “Okay, should’ve seen that coming. You always knew just how to get the filling there, damn.”

“I told you that in confidence,” Asami said through a hiss. “At worst I thought you’d use it to whack off a few times, not go and blab it back to them!”

“Oh, I’m going to do that too, haven’t had the chance yet.” He was still slightly sore from Su working him over, if he was being perfectly honest. “There’s not a ton of privacy on this airship, so I’m saving that for a rainy day. Not often I get to hear about you and the Avatar and the Earth Queen.”

Mako saw her winding back for another slap, but ducked in time and she struck her palm on the fuselage instead of him. “You’re an arrogant, egotistical prick, you know that?”

That stung, more than he would even admit to himself, but he wasn’t about to let her see that. If she wanted to play that game, he could play. “Then don’t feed my ego, let’s talk about you instead. _You_ have no idea how to handle stress in a relationship. _You_ push people away when you need them the most. _You_ can be completely thoughtless to others when you get on a tear about something,” he said, rattling them off as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.

Asami bit her lip and ruined her lipstick while tears threatened to stain the face she was trying to keep straight. She lost control of a pained gasp, and Mako crumbled first as he always did, running his hand through his hair with a sigh. “Look, that—that wasn’t fair. I’m sorry. For the way I said it, not what I said. My delivery might need work, but you can’t stand there and tell me I’m wrong.”

She trembled through a breath and wiped her eyes, leaving streaks of mascara trailing behind her fingers. Mako had no idea why she insisted on so much makeup while they were in the air, Kuvira hadn’t bothered and Korra never used any, but he decided not to pick at it. “I know, okay? I know. I won’t let people be there for me and I cut and run when I’m stressed. _I know_. I did it with you, with Jiang, you again, with Korra and the rest.”

Mako furrowed his brow. “We were never together a second time. Not in a relationship, anyway.”

“That summer in Heian?”

“Oh, right. How did I forget that? Anyway. I don’t exactly have a spate of successful relationships myself, so at least you’re in good company,” he said, moving to let her sit in the little alcove. Mako leaned on the railing and turned away from the wind.

“What about Mei?”

“Tried to arrest me. Our relationship soured after that.”

“Shiori?”

He shuddered. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

Asami shrugged before a smirk crept over her lips. “Not even those twins from the Northern Water Tribe? De—”

Mako cut her off by frantically waving his hands. “Ah ah ah ah…first of all, that was not a relationship. That was a long weekend. A very long, very drunk weekend. Second of all, don’t mention that around Korra. So now you know I’m not great at this stuff, either. We might be the only people who can stand being in a relationship with each other.”

They both thought about it for a moment, then shook their heads. “Everything really did go wrong with Korra, though,” Asami said, absently flipping through Mako’s magazine. “I mean, I really care about her, I lo—I screwed up, though, and now…I just want her to be happy. She deserves that much.”

He wasn’t quite sure who she was trying to convince, but an ominous grinding from the engine kept him from pressing the matter. “Is it supposed to make that noise?”

Asami’s eyes widened and she scrambled past him, clambering along the walkway and back into the cabin. He followed her, although the smoke billowing out along the airship’s frame didn’t inspire a great deal of optimism. Below them, the northern coast of Huanhe Island stretched out against a bright blue sea, and Mako wondered if he was too high up to break his fall with some concentrated firebending.

“So, are we falling out of the sky?” he asked, stepping back into the cabin while Asami worked frantically at the controls. “Because I’m not much of a ‘go down with the ship’ type.”

Korra punched him. “That’s for the cute little comment before.”

“We need to land,” Asami said, yanking a lever. “Now!”

They came in much faster than they should have, grinding to a shuddering halt as the anchoring tethers shot out. By the time they reeled the ship to the ground, there was so much smoke that they couldn’t see out of the cabin. Asami hit the emergency stop rather than power down normally, and all the rotors and instrumentation around them simply died. When everything was silent and still, she sighed in relief and wiped a line of sweat from her neck.

Without an exhaust fan to cycle the air, the cabin grew very stale, very fast, leaving everyone outside on an empty stretch of beach while Asami tinkered with the engine. Korra was making a good attempt at sandbending while Mako and Kuvira sat near the edge of the water, until Asami pulled out the remains of a tiny bulb and a metal cylinder.

“Piece of junk,” Asami said, holding out the bulb before putting it into her pocket.

“What happened?” Korra asked.

“Some of the coolant denatured and cracked a spark plug. Ended up snapping a condenser ring and frying this actuator’s control circuit, too. We’ve been working the engine too hard, it’s not meant to fly more than twelve hours at a time.”

Mako and Kuvira joined them at the engine access while Asami fished out of the pieces of the ruined condenser ring. “Something you can fix?” Kuvira asked.

“We have spare coolant, spark plugs and condenser rings, but not actuators.” She held up the small cylinder and spun the arm on one end of it with her finger. “I had to cut back on a lot of storage to make the ship habitable and still airworthy. See the connectors here? Totally cooked. Won’t conduct electricity.”

“So let’s look at one that didn’t get ruined and bend a replacement together,” Korra said, reaching into the engine before Asami slapped her on the wrist. “What?”

“It’s a platinum alloy, so unless you learned how to bend that we need to find another one. Might have to get it machined, this place didn’t look like a big airship station from the sky.”

Korra looked at Mako. “This still isn’t a field trip.”

“You say that like I sabotaged the thing!”

Letting off steam or not, she was beginning to wear on him. Mako hung back from all three of them while they walked to Zheifei, passing little fishing supply stores that dotted the walkways from the beach. The town proper was quiet, almost unnaturally so, and he saw precious few people out on the streets for a pleasant weekend. A few men hanging around on the other side of the street were the only group of people he saw, making comments to a passing woman and pulling water from a storm drain to snap at her ankles.

_A waterbender?_

He didn’t have time to take a closer look before they found a metal shop. Asami went inside while they waited on the corner, where Mako had an unobstructed view of each cross street. They were all sparsely populated, if he was being very generous.

“It’s way too empty here,” he said, shifting back and forth on his heels. His hackles rose, as if he were being watched. “This place isn’t giving either of you a bad vibe?”

“Fewer people to recognize us,” Kuvira said.

That seemed easily accomplished with a change of clothes and hairstyle, but he wasn’t interested in antagonizing them further. Asami came out of the shop soon afterward, muttering and turning the broken actuator in her hand. “I left the blueprint with them, it’ll be ready in the morning,” she said. “Or it had better be. I paid upfront.”

Korra rubbed her unscarred temple. “So we’re stuck here?”

“Unless you want to charter a boat, but that would mean leaving our airship on the beach. Right now it’s an eighteen million-yuan paperweight. Flying without the main rotor group working properly is just asking for the whole thing to blow up in the air.”

Mako actually felt his breath catch in his throat at the sheer cost of the ship, but Korra only sighed and shook her head. “We’ll wait for the part. This still isn’t a chance to go and find your family, Mako.”

“As opposed to everything else there is to do around here? We might as well get some lunch and look for a place to stay, then. That tatami’s wreaking havoc on my back.”

There was a small restaurant on the next block that seemed quiet enough, and Korra relented when her stomach began to growl. What little miso soup had been left over wasn’t enough to keep them going for the rest of the day. A cook and waitress were inside along with a few diners, but still nowhere near the amount Mako would expect for a town of Zheifei’s size on a weekend afternoon.

“What can I get you?” the waitress asked when they sat down in a back corner booth. She had bright amber eyes and slight singe marks on her fingertips—a firebender, Mako thought.

“Well, now that I’ve heard about it, some kind of spicy carp trout,” Korra said, looking out the window every so often.

The menu turned out to be rather insubstantial beyond that, and they all ordered the same thing. “Do you have a phone here?” Mako asked, ignoring Korra pursing her lips.

“Through there by the restrooms.”

He felt Korra’s glare burning a hole in the back of his head until he ducked into the phone booth and dropped a good deal of money into the coin slot. _What’s the calling code for the United Republic…three?_

Eventually he got through, receiving a low grumble for a response. “Hey, it’s me.”

“Do you have to keep interrupting my mornings?” Bolin asked, bedsprings creaking in the background.

Mako looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s past noon there.”

“I like to sleep in on the weekends. What do you want? Did the Avatar try to kill you again?”

“Only with looks. Listen, I need that address we got for Mom’s family. Quickly would be ideal, this call is getting very expensive,” he said, putting more coins in the phone.

“What, in Zheifei? Why?”

“Can you just help me out, please?”

“Okay, okay. Hold on.” Bolin set the phone down to go find the information, and all the while Mako was feeding coins into the phone until his pocket was considerably lighter. “All right, I got it. Number ninety-eight, Hifan Avenue. Nearest cross street is Taba.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, don’t send any more relatives, I can’t pay another mortgage—”

He dropped the phone onto its hook an instant before it demanded more money. Mako repeated the address to himself a few times, trying to commit it to memory before another one of Korra’s smart remarks distracted him. Their waitress brought glasses of water to their table in his absence, and Korra absently worked hers into a spiral before letting it drip back down into the glass.

_Waterbenders…_

Their meals came before he could think much more about the men on the street. Four plates of well-seared carp trout arrived, bathed in a medley of spices to draw out as much natural acerbity as possible. Korra and Kuvira tucked in, while Asami cut up her helping first and Mako prepared his glass of water. It didn’t help so much, he discovered. The flavor and heat exploded on his tongue, covering his whole mouth in a fire that the water did nothing to extinguish. He swallowed out of instinct, burning his throat and sending him into a fit of coughs.

“I thought you, out of all of us, would’ve been able to handle this,” Korra said through a full mouth.

All Mako could do was wheeze in between mouthfuls of water, which provided only fleeting relief before the sharp, pungent burn resurfaced. “They drowned this in peppers!”

Once he recovered, Mako carefully scraped off most of the seasoning that was, in his opinion, far too liberally applied. After that it was much more manageable, although he still kept his water at the ready. “Korra?”

“No, Mako.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask,” he said, his throat still burning.

“But I know my answer will be _no_ , so it doesn’t really matter, does it? We don’t have time to look for your family. If we survive this…after we find Zaheer and P’Li, you can have the airship to hunt down as many relatives as you want. But not now,” she said flatly, scowling down at her empty plate.

Well, Mako thought, someone was testy. He had a sneaking suspicion about why that was—and why all the chocolate in the airship was missing—but he knew better than to try and confirm it. It would only be a few more days at the worst, he told himself. So he hoped.

“Whatever you say, Water Tribe.”

The little bell over the front door rang, and Mako saw the three men from the street saunter in. One of them leaned against the front door to bar it, one took stock of all the diners, and the third went to the waitress at the register. He knew what was about to happen, if only because it had been his job, years ago.

“Can I at least take care of this mess?” he asked, not entirely sure why he made the request. Professional disdain, perhaps. It all seemed so slipshod. Korra glanced over her shoulder at the entrance and shifted protectively toward Kuvira. “Righting wrongs, protecting people, restoring balance, isn’t this in your job description?”

“We don’t have time to get mixed up in this,” she began, but Mako was already up and moving when a gap in the surveillance presented itself. He took the long way around the dining area, laid out in such a way that a dessert display obstructed their view of his approach. The register rang as it opened, and he stepped into view, hands held casually in his pockets.

“You want something?” the man at the door asked, taking a step toward him.

“Maybe to know how you get away with doing such an awful job.” Mako nodded to the man at the register. “I’ve seen twelve year-olds pull off better shakedowns than this.”

He didn’t feel the need to mention that he was the twelve year-old. The waitress glowered at him out of the corner of her eye, shaking her head as frantically and as subtly as she could, when the man at the register advanced on him. He drew a tendril of water from the skin on his hip. “You some kind of hero or something?”

_I don’t think I’ve ever been mistaken for one of those…_

There was very little open space in the front of the restaurant. Firebending would probably cause too much damage, to say nothing of lightningbending. He could try chi-blocking, but he had only learned the most basic forms from Asami, and in a decidedly less combative context at that. Plain old fighting, then. He could do that.

Mako saw the man’s wrist flick, and he felt something pop in his neck as he moved his head to the side to dodge the shot. He had gone up against too many waterbenders to have a sucker punch get him. The water didn’t have enough time to come back around before he dropped his stance and drove the heel of his palm hard into the man’s water chakra. He gasped wordlessly and staggered back, falling to the floor with a _thud_.

The remaining two men looked at their colleague, wheezing as pain diffused up through his abdomen, and then advanced on Mako. Plates and glasses clattered as the waitress ducked beneath the front counter. He pressed his advantage, grabbing one man’s outstretched arm and pinning it against his side while sending his knee into the man’s ribs. A fist landed in Mako’s gut, and he could see the man wind back again while the telltale sound of swirling liquid told him what would happen next.

Water froze into a blade around the man’s hand, and Mako had to jump back to miss the swing. A button came neatly off his jacket, and the fabric around it tore in a clean horizontal line. He leapt back from two more swings, then sidestepped a jab before grabbing the ice and running the man into the back of a booth. His head bounced off the metal frame, and all he could do was lie on the ground, dazed, while Mako stomped the ice to shatter it. He grabbed him by the collar and tossed him into the first man before either of them could sit up.

Mako picked up his jacket button and put it in his pocket before turning to the last man, who happened to be the largest. He looked to be reexamining their previous choice to pick a fight, and started backing up toward the door. That was fine with him. “You don’t seem quite so dumb,” Mako said, letting sparks swirl around his fingers. “Cut your losses. Take your guys and don’t come back.”

His suggestion seemed to land. Mako stood back while he gathered up his colleagues, hoisting one onto each shoulder before taking his leave. Once they were well onto the next block, Mako turned back to the counter. Korra, Kuvira and Asami came up from the back of the room while the other diners scrambled to leave. “They’re gone. Thanks for the backup, by the way.”

“We didn’t have time to do anything, it was over in thirty seconds,” Asami said. The waitress came right over the counter and started hitting Mako.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“Ah! Hey!” Mako ducked around her fists, glaring at a very amused Asami. He didn’t have any particular compunctions against hitting women, but she wasn’t doing a great deal of damage. “Is this how they say ‘thank you’ in the Fire Nation?”

“All I had to do was pay them for the week and that would’ve been it,” she said, putting her hair back in the topknot that had come loose in all the excitement. “Now I’m going to have ten Blazing Monsoons in here tomorrow wrecking up the place!”

“Blazing Monsoons?” _What a stupid name._ “Look, I…I know people like this, they don’t keep at it if you don’t make it worth their time. They won’t be back.”

“You’d better be right,” she muttered, scribbling out their check and handing it to him. Mako passed it over to Asami without a word and ignored her indignant look.

“I have some experience with gangs. We’ll get out of your hair, but do you know how to get to Hifan Avenue? I’m looking for number ninety-eight.”

She turned to him so fast that her hair fell loose again. “What? Why?”

“You know the place?”

“I would hope so, I live there.”


	32. Fire and Ice

“Why are you looking for my house?”

“I, uh…wow, that’s convenient.” Mako took out his wallet and removed the picture of his parents that he kept in the back. “That’s the address I have for my mom’s family, her name was Naoki. Naoki Hishimura.”

She took the picture and slowly looked it over while Mako ignored the we-don’t-have-time-for-this look from Korra. Instead he studied the waitress, and she did seem to have the same sharp features as his mother, the prominent cheekbones and tapering jaw in particular. She was of a height with him, too. Her brow furrowed up, but then she shrugged. “This looks like the pictures my mom has of Aunt Naoki. I’m guessing you’re the kid with the dumb eyebrows here.”

“Oh, you’ll get along great with these three…anyway, I guess I’m your cousin, then. Mako. This is Asami, Korra, and Kuvira.”

“Sachiko Hishimura,” she said, an instant before a shot of recognition struck her. “Wait. _That_ Korra? _That_ Kuvira? The Avatar and the Earth Queen?”

“And _that_ Asami,” the third woman said dryly, leaning against the counter. “Guess word travels fast.”

Korra nodded. “Yeah, that’s us. And we really should be getting back to our airship.”

“It’s no good until we get that part,” Kuvira said in an attempt to placate her. “You said Mako couldn’t look for his family, and he didn’t. It’s more like he…tripped and fell into them.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m not taking sides, but she’s right here!”

Sachiko waved at them. “Hey. _She_ has a name. Look, Mako, if you really are my cousin, then come by and meet my mom. Your little street fighting display scared off the rest of my customers, so I might as well close up for the day. It’s costing me money to have this place open for nothing more than a trickle. Let me send my chef home and grab my jacket.”

Korra rubbed two fingers to her unscarred temple while Sachiko disappeared into the back. “Fine. We can’t do anything else while we’re stuck here, we might as well see if we can get any more of that spicy carp trout.”

“Thanks, Korra.”

She gave him a courtesy smile, the kind that didn’t go all the way up to her eyes, but he was grateful all the same. Sachiko came back out after a moment with a light red jacket, cleared out the register, and ushered them onto the street before locking up. “It’s that way,” she said, pointing down the next block. “Try not to beat up any more triads, okay?”

“These Blazing Monsoon guys,” Asami said as they walked. “How long have they been a problem?”

“About four months now, I guess. It seemed ridiculous at first, waterbending triads in the Fire Nation, but we’re right on the coast, so there’s never a shortage of water, and most of the firebenders work inland at the mines. If I wasn’t stuck as one of their ‘clients,’ I’d think it was actually pretty brilliant. Bastards.”

There was such venom in her voice that Mako felt it striking at him in hot waves. Korra and Asami both glanced at him, their thoughts plain on their faces, and an uncomfortable sense of guilt twisted around his heart.

“Aren’t you a firebender?” he asked. Sachiko nodded and took one hand from her jacket pocket, holding a handful of flame in her palm for a moment before snuffing it out.

“Yeah. So’s Yumi, but a fat lot of good it’d do to have me and my little sister go up against a bunch of gangsters.”

“Right.”

“How come you’re all the way out here? I read in the paper that the Avatar was going back to the Earth Kingdom since it’s a mess. Fire Lord Izumi’s still alive, unless something changed since this morning,” Sachiko said, turning and walking backward to address the women behind her. “I mean, you’re the Earth Queen, and that’s cool, you can go wherever you want, but it seems like you’re taking the long way around to get to the Earth Kingdom.”

Kuvira scratched the back of her neck, the little motion she used when she wanted to surreptitiously tug on her braid. “I thought it was important to meet with the Fire Lord, so we turned around. Right now we’re waiting on a replacement part for our airship.”

She could talk around the whole truth, Mako thought. Not the worst trait for a politician.

“You’re still a ways from Kasai.” Sachiko directed them onto a cross street. Mako looked up and saw the name, Hifan Avenue. “Right down here.”

“The triads, are they the reason the streets are almost totally empty?” Mako asked.

“People are scared. You have triads in Republic City, don’t you know what it’s like?”

“You could say that,” he mumbled.

She turned into the front yard of a small house with several rows of happy pink chinensis roses on either side of the door. They all bumped into one another while she paused to produce a key from her pocket. Sachiko guided them inside and locked the door behind them while they removed their boots in favor of the guest slippers lined up in the entryway.

“Mom? Yumi? I’m home,” she said, bringing them through a narrow hallway and into the kitchen.

There was a younger woman, maybe twenty or twenty-one, at the table with a long ponytail that reached down to her waist, idly puffing handfuls of smoke into the air. An older woman stood at the kitchen’s stove, lighting a burner with her firebending. She glanced back when they walked in, surveying the newcomers with wary eyes, and Mako’s breath caught in his throat. There were streaks of gray and white in her wavy black hair, and she might have been a bit broader in the shoulders, but she was otherwise his mother’s spitting image. “I brought…people,” Sachiko said, lazily waving her hand at them. “I’ve got the Avatar, the Earth Queen, this guy who says he’s our cousin, and—”

“Hey, are you Asami Sato?” the girl at the table asked.

It took her a moment to realize that it was her being recognized rather than Korra or Kuvira, but then a small grin crept over her lips. “The one and only.”

“Oh, wow…um, I’m Yumi, I like to build things like you, would you take a look at this water clock I put together?”

She didn’t wait for an answer before hopping up out of her seat and dragging a bemused, if flattered, Asami back down the hall. Sachiko rolled her eyes. “Well, I’ve still got these three.”

Her mother bowed deeply, clasping her hands together as she did. “Avatar Korra. Your Majesty. You honor our home. My name is Tomiko, what brings you to our village?”

“Engine trouble,” Korra said. “Our airship broke down, and we found Sachiko’s restaurant when we stopped for lunch. And despite being told not to,” she continued, leveling a tired look at Mako, “He got his mother’s old address, which happens to be this house.”

“Your mother?” Tomiko asked, turning to him. Mako brought out his family picture again and turned it over to her. She studied it closely, putting on a pair of glasses from her pocket and running her fingers over the old film. The wary look in her eyes softened after a moment. “Oh, Naoki…this is you, then?”

“That’s me, the good-looking one.”

She handed the photo back and hugged him before putting them all at the table. “Sit, sit. I’ll make you something.”

“They just ate, Mom,” Sachiko said, but her words fell on deaf ears. Instead they had to have another helping of spicy carp trout and try a particularly strong bit of sake before Tomiko was satisfied, and even then she commented on how bony Mako seemed.

“It’s kind of weird not being focused on, isn’t it?” Korra asked, sitting at one end of the table.

Kuvira shook her head and nestled into Korra’s side with another helping of sake. “The word you’re looking for is ‘nice.’ Let him have this, it gives us a chance to relax.”

She grumbled in response, but a kiss silenced her well enough. Mako turned back to Tomiko and Sachiko, the latter of whom looked askance at the women before shrugging. “I thought the papers were making that up.”

“Naoki was a pro-bender?” Tomiko asked, gently nudging him back into the story he had been telling.

“Only for the one season, that’s how she met my dad. He was one of the medics on duty the night she broke her arm, near the end of the season. Good thing she was injured. Well, for me, anyway. I think there’s some rule against playing while you’re pregnant, so she retired before the next season started.”

Tomiko nodded and sipped at her tea. “She always was looking for excitement. Scared our parents half to death sometimes—oh.”

Mako let the words cut into him, shrugging it off as best he could while his heart twisted. “She started teaching after that,” he said, trying to continue. “Needed something less physical to do.”

His fingers drummed on the table, and his cousin put a hand on his. “You really miss her,” Sachiko said, and Mako thought it must have been the first thing she said to him that wasn’t deeply sardonic.

Something burned in his throat. _Damn spicy carp trout._ “Yeah.”

She softened up a bit toward him after that—in some way that was only barely perceptible to him—but he stopped dead when she ventured to ask her own questions. “So what do you do? Other than run around with two of the most powerful women in the world, I mean.”

He had to think about her question before looking to the other end of the table, where Korra and Kuvira were seeing how close they could put a finger to each other’s noses without actually touching. “Oh, them.” Seeing them struggling to get up every morning and falling over one another while half-naked had left Mako somewhat less than star struck, and to him they were just Korra and Kuvira. It took a moment to remember that they were Avatar Korra and Queen Kuvira to everyone other than him and Asami. “Well, globe-trotting misadventures aside, I ran a construction company.”

It wasn’t a _lie_ , he thought, but it was certainly dishonest. He always had a way to pull focus from himself, though. “Bolin’s the one with the fun job, he’s the Vice President.”

“Of what?” Sachiko asked.

“The whole damn United Republic.” Mako decided to leave out the coup he had staged and the fact that he was still wielding most of the country’s power, leaving Tenzin to take the blame for whatever he did. “It’s a bit more interesting than my job, or so I hear. Never really cared for politics. Or most politicians, really.”

He refused to meet the unamused looks of the queen and the crown princess at the end of the table.

The afternoon wore away, and the sun began to set as Tomiko wheedled out every story she could about her little sister. No matter how trivial or unimportant it might have seemed to Mako, she wanted to hear it. She only paused to begin preparing dinner, despite their insistence that they were quite full. Asami returned with Yumi shortly before the food was ready, and Mako didn’t fail to notice the messy ponytail that her usually perfectly coiffed hair had become. He ground his tongue between his teeth and pulled her to the hallway, out of earshot of everyone else.

“Hey!” she said, slippers slapping on the wooden floor. “Miss me that much?”

“That’s my _cousin_ ,” Mako said under his breath, jerking his head back toward the kitchen.

Asami cocked an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to say more. “And? What difference…oh, you’re gross, you know that? I don’t know what goes on in your daydreams, but here in the real world it isn’t my mission in life to jump on every woman I meet,” she hissed back, punching him square in the chest. “But since you’re so intent on making everything sexual, maybe Korra would like to hear what you did with _her_ cousins—”

“Okay, okay! Point taken. I don’t need her out of my blood.”

“We really were looking over her designs, that’s why I put my hair up. She’s brilliant. Quit being a pervert.”

She hit again and returned to the kitchen. Mako didn’t think his suspicions were entirely unjustified, considering the proclivities of the people he was stuck spending all of his time with, but he decided to let the matter rest. “Women,” he muttered, and followed her.

There was a great deal of steamed rice with a tangy hot sauce drizzled on top to go around, along with sushi wrapped in seaweed and dumplings packed with meat. Between lunch, the second lunch, and now dinner, Mako was nearly full to bursting, and his companions hardly looked any better. Sachiko and Yumi seemed fine, and he had to wonder where all the food went, considering they were as rail-thin as he was. Tomiko brought them into the living room afterward for tea, a sweet jasmine affair that Mako thought could have benefitted from more steeping.

While Yumi grilled Asami about engineering, Mako slipped over to the front door, put his boots back on, and stepped outside. Apart from the highest snow-capped peaks on the larger islands, it never got properly cold in the Fire Nation, and it seemed like the occasional cool breeze over the humid night air was the coldest Zheifei got. Everything was deathly still, silent but for his own breathing and the turning doorknob behind him.

“You okay?” Sachiko asked, stepping up to his side. “Couldn’t take any more of Yumi’s babbling either, huh? I never know what she’s on about half the time. She’s just excited that there’s someone here who can keep up.”

“No, it’s…you guys and your mom. It’s nice,” he said, letting her arm work around his own. “Reminds me of my mom. Bolin and I know the other side of our family, we grabbed them from Ba Sing Se years ago, but that’s his side. He’s the earthbender. And I guess I was always closer with my mom.”

Sachiko made a small, affirmative noise, watching the fireflies with him until they gradually turned to face one another. “Well, we’re your half of that family. I…I’m glad you wandered into my restaurant. I’m glad you beat up those guys.” She took a half-step forward until they were very, very close. “I’m glad I met you.”

 _She’s your cousin, she’s your cousin, she’s your cousin,_ he thought furiously, although the fact didn’t seem to perturb her much. He had enough issues, Mako knew, there was no reason to compound them. One of her hands found its way to his hip, and he was never so glad to have something stinging him in the neck to distract him. _Wait—_

His thoughts clouded up, and he saw something sticking out of Sachiko’s neck before they both hit the ground. Despite his best efforts, not even the tips of his fingers would move, as if he were encased in ice. Breathing became a challenge, and he fought for every mouthful of air as his chest locked up. “Yeah, that’s him,” he heard. There was a sharp pain on the side of his head, and then nothing.

⁂

“He’d better still be alive.”

“It’s only shirshu toxin, boss. Even if we got him in the heart, it wouldn’t kill him. Don’t know when he’ll come to, but he’ll burn out the venom sooner or later. These fucking spark plugs run too hot for it to last as long as it should.”

“Get me as soon as he wakes up. And keep up the chi-blocking until then, on both of them. The correct chakra, Nakku. As much as you might want to return the favor, hitting his water chakra won’t actually keep him from firebending.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“What was that?”

“Ah—nothing, boss. I’ll make sure you know as soon as he’s awake.”

Footsteps. Boots on dry earth. A door falling shut against a frame. Mako made note of it all, or did the best he could while a haze still hung over his thoughts. He heard another bout of labored breathing nearby, likely from Sachiko, probably cuffed to a chair like him. One set of footsteps made a circuit around them, and though he didn’t want to chance opening his eyes yet, the room they were in seemed not all that large. A holding cell, maybe. Water was flowing nearby. _Underground?_

Something warm and wet tricked down the side of his neck, where the toxin had struck. Maybe blood. It ran down to where the collar of his jacket would have been, had he not been stripped to the waist. There was a soreness forming over his stomach, guaranteed to leave an unsightly and sensitive bruise—

_Focus, you idiot!_

When he was sure the man named Nakku had his back to him, Mako tried calling up a spark by flicking his fingers together behind his back. The cuffs cut into his wrists at the motion, but a flame plumed in his hand. Either the last round of chi-blocking had worn off, or it had never worked in the first place. The fire chakra wasn’t an easy chi path to get to, partially protected by the ribcage as it was.

Nakku’s footsteps stopped, and Mako heard a few jabbing strikes followed by a pained groan. Definitely Sachiko. His jaw clenched. His cousin was blunt and acerbic and bitingly sardonic, and he liked that about her. Hearing her in pain wasn’t high on his list of priorities, but there was nothing he could do before another set of strikes flew into his own stomach and up to his chest. The energy swirling in his fingertips died out instantly, and he couldn’t suppress a cough. Nakku grabbed him by the chin and pitched his head back, causing him to recoil from the light overhead. “Rise and shine, Mako,” he said, jostling his head a bit. One of the men from the restaurant, he saw. The one he took down with a hard palm to the water chakra.

“I must be a pretty popular guy if you know who I am.”

There was no response for a moment while Nakku went to the door and gave it three short raps. “Oh yeah, real popular. The boss wants to see you. And then I’m going to beat you so bloody you won’t even remember your own name.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Mako spat back. Nakku drew some water from a skin on his hip, hardened it into a thick sheet of ice, and cracked it across Mako’s face. His head spun, and small spots dotted his vision for several seconds. The ice liquefied and disappeared into the water skin as the door creaked open.

“Good to see you again, Mako.”

He looked up with bleary eyes at the strangely familiar voice, and found a lithe Water Tribe man with awful slicked-back hair. “Fast Foot Feng.”

“Oh, it’s just Feng now. I could hardly believe it when Nakku dragged you in here. You’ll never stop being a thorn in my side, will you?” he asked, kneeling down and giving Mako a few light slaps on the cheek. “Poached eight of my best waterbenders in Republic City, drove me out after all we’ve been though, and now you’ve fallen into my lap all the way out here.”

“Small world…you’re a long way from the North Pole,” Mako said, straining against the cuffs that held firm around his wrists.

“Guess I got tired of rooting around in the ice and snow. The hot springs just weren’t worth it, I catch colds way too easily.”

“You poor thing.”

That earned him a harder slap.

“But the air here? All the sand and warm water? Does wonders for me. Not to mention how far it is from everything, even the mines down south. Very quiet, very isolated. Great place for me and my new friends.”

He drew one finger up along Mako’s throat, letting a flow from his water skin coalesce on his nail until there was a sharp, icy point pressing into the soft skin beneath his mouth. “Should’ve known it was you. No one else could come up with a name as dumb as ‘Blazing Monsoon.’”

The ice pierced his skin, digging into the sensitive flesh there with a sickening pain. “Always had a smart mouth for a kid. Shame you never could use it properly.”

Feng drew the ice away, but not before twisting his finger to make the wound a little wider. “You’re so lucky there’s no full moon tonight, I’d bend the blood right through your skin. Even that might not kill you, I know firsthand how much of a pounding you can take,” he said, giving Mako a humorless smile before turning his pale blue eyes on Sachiko. “But that’s okay. I don’t need to beat you to hurt you.”

The cuffs cut deeply into his wrists as Mako worked against them, rocking the chair to get free until Nakku held him still by his throat. Feng walked slowly over to Sachiko, so slowly that Mako knew he was doing it to rile him. He popped the cork on his water skin and elongated the ice on his finger, turning it into a long, thin blade that covered his whole hand. “You son of a bitch.”

“That’s not nice. Especially since my mother is still alive.” Feng took a swipe at Sachiko’s shirt, rending the white fabric over her stomach before red stained through. The only response she could muster was a weak moan. “So who’s this one to you? Your girlfriend? I doubt you jumped in off the street because you couldn’t stand the injustice of it all. The only restaurants your guys didn’t touch were the Equalist-owned ones. How’s Asami doing, by the way?”

“Kill you,” Mako choked out, fighting for breath in Nakku’s grip. “I’ll kill you…”

“You’ve had more than enough chances.” He poked his blade into Sachiko’s thigh, and her half-lidded eyes began to water. Tears rolled down her cheeks as he twisted the ice and made a spurt of blood spray onto her lap. Feng sighed and returned to Mako, pushing Nakku out of the way and leveling the blade at Mako’s bare chest. “No, you’ve got it backwards. _I’m_ going to kill _you_. Not tonight. Not any time soon.”

The ice pierced his right shoulder, driving easily into the muscle there. Mako hissed and stamped his foot while pain silenced all of his thoughts. Blood ran down his side and onto his pants, the chair, the floor. So much red. So much pain.

“I’m going to make you want it first,” Feng said, pulling out and leaning down until their faces were level. His free hand gripped Mako’s chin while his thumb pressed into Mako’s open mouth. “Make it so you’re crawling on your hands and knees, begging for it. And then…maybe…I’ll indulge you.”

He forced Mako’s head up so he could look into his eyes when a loud _bang_ from another room wiped the anguine smile from his face. Everything around them trembled, and Mako could vaguely hear what sounded like wind howling through an enclosed space. “My friends might not like that.”

The door flew clean off its hinges, taking out an inattentive Nakku. Feng whipped around, but Asami was already on him, sending a blast of air at his legs and jamming her shock glove into his chest. Korra and Kuvira spilled in after her, throwing metal strips that shoved Feng and Nakku into the far wall by their necks. The handcuffs fastening them to the chairs fell away with a flick of Kuvira’s wrist, and she had to run to catch Sachiko before she fell over.

“We missed cake for this,” Korra said, further securing the triads with stone cuffs around their waists and ankles.

“I’ll bake you another one.” Mako tried to bring his hands into his lap, but his right arm wouldn’t budge. Blood only streamed down toward his wrist and waist when he tried. Korra yanked Feng’s ice away from his hand and melted it, but Mako shook his head when she brought it to his shoulder. “Her first.”

“You could have nerve damage.”

“I’ll live, take care of her. She’s still full of shirshu toxin.”

Something that someone else might have mistaken for concern flashed briefly on her face, but then Korra nodded and took the water to Sachiko. Kuvira fished through Nakku’s pockets and eventually found a small vial of antivenin. There looked to be only one dose, but that was fine. He had burned it out of his system already, he ran hot—one of the fringe benefits of being a lightningbender. A spark plug. Dizziness hit him as he stood up, and Asami threw his good arm over her shoulder.

“Thanks for the backup,” he said, fatigue wearing on his voice as the adrenaline faded. “Still think I’m an arrogant, egotistical prick?”

“Of course.”

He rolled his eyes as another bead of blood trickled down his chest. “That’s the worst apology I’ve ever gotten.”

Asami gave him a quick, chaste peck on the cheek. “But you’re _my_ arrogant, egotistical prick.”

“I’ll take it.”

The antivenin ran its course, and Sachiko began sobbing once she had control over her body again. She grabbed at her stomach and thigh while Korra worked the water over her, running her fingers over the mending wounds. She healed the cuts, and Sachiko curled up with a shudder. “How’d you find us?” Mako asked.

“Someone started beating up the nearest triads when we noticed you two were gone,” Kuvira said, looking pointedly at the Avatar.

“You’re still my responsibility,” Korra grumbled as she ran the water over his shoulder. She worked for a few moments before hardening it and lobbing the ice at Feng’s head. “You’ll need a sling for a few days. And we should get this blood off, I need…you know…”

“What?”

“Your consent.”

“It’s not in me anymore. Bloodbend away.”

She glanced at Asami, who nodded, and then brought her hands in tight, jerky spirals along Mako’s side. It must have been easier than bending blood inside the body, he thought. All the blood slipped off his skin and landed in a small circular pool by the door. It was a bit nauseating to see so much of it outside himself. “There. Now put a shirt on.”

Mako didn’t think he looked _that_ bad, but then Korra’s interest in men at all was suspect. He found his jacket and scarf and slipped them on before going over to Sachiko. She was still trembling, her breaths ragged and uneven, and he took her hand as gently as he could. “It’s okay, Sachiko. The police can come and clean up in here. Let’s get you back home, all right?”

She let him stand her up and follow the others out with her arms around his and Asami’s shoulders. It was some kind of compound, either underground or in a hill outside Zheifei. Korra absently stepped over stepped over several triads in varying states of consciousness, all bound to the walls with thick earthen cuffs. The air tasted stale. It wasn’t recycling, Mako realized. They were underground. His guess was confirmed when they ascended a set of rough stairs and emerged in what appeared to be a storage shed behind a building that had been thoroughly leveled by earthbending. Mako nodded appreciatively to Korra and Kuvira, and while the queen smiled back, the Avatar never changed the look of restrained relief on her face.

They weren’t far from Sachiko’s house, and Yumi nearly bowled them over when they came through the door, crying and clawing desperately at her sister. Both of them fell into one another right there in the entryway, sinking to their knees while everyone scrambled to get out of their way.

“You’re okay,” Yumi mumbled, as much to herself as to Sachiko. “You’re okay, you’re okay…”

Somehow they corralled both of them into the kitchen, where Tomiko was putting on tea. She grabbed both of her daughters in a bone-crushing hug, trying very hard to maintain what was left of her composure. Everyone but Mako sank into seats around the table while he tied his scarf into a crude sling for his arm.

“I could hear most of what was going on,” Sachiko said, her voice weak as she looked up at Mako. “That guy seemed to know you.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, he knew me. I knew him. I thought I did, anyway. We have a history. I’m the one that threw him and his friends out of Republic City four months ago.”

“Mako,” Asami began.

“No, I’m not going to lie to them. I’ve done enough lying for three lifetimes.” He took a long, deep breath while everyone looked at him intently. “I didn’t know they’d end up here, I thought they’d go to one of the Water Tribes. I drove them out because…because I ran another triad, and I didn’t want the competition.”

The words hung in the air like an unwelcome odor for several minutes before Sachiko got to her feet. Her tired expression hardened, and her hands balled into reddened, shaking fists. “So you’re just like them? All you do is bend fire instead of water?”

He nodded, unable to meet her gaze.

The force of her punch reopened the scar cutting through the end of his left eyebrow, and he felt the skin around his eye swelling up before he finished staggering back. “Get out,” she seethed. “Get out!”

“Hey, he’s done—” Korra started.

“No. She’s right.” He turned away and wiped a line of blood from his brow. “I’ll stay with the ship.”

Mako didn’t look back at them before he closed the door. He didn’t deserve that. Once he laced up his boots on the porch, as quickly as he could with one good arm, he left, reaching the sidewalk before the door opened again. Asami caught up with him, as did Korra and Kuvira, and they navigated the empty streets in silence.

⁂

The few fishing boats out on the water rocked with the waves that lapped at the shore, stopping short of where Mako sat on the sunbaked sand. His good hand held a bundle of ice to his eye, and while the swelling wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, the burst blood vessels left a shimmering splotch to match the bruise on his stomach. The sand crunched close behind him. “Korra’s back with the supplies, and Asami’s nearly done with the engine,” Kuvira said. “We’ll be ready to leave after that.”

She sat beside him as he nodded. “Good. Coming here was a mistake. I should’ve let it be.”

“You really did those things you talked about last night?” she asked, idly bending some sand between her feet into a spiral.

“Running the Triple Threat Triad? Yeah, that was true. Ask Asami. I kicked Feng out after a few years of begrudging cooperation, and then it was only my outfit left. I was pretty damn good at it too, if I’m being honest. That’s the…history I have with your aunt. Most of it, anyway. And then Korra blew up a warehouse around me and got me thrown in jail.”

“She likes telling that part of the story,” Kuvira said, letting the sand fall so she could fix the end of her braid. “I really can’t see you that way, though. To me you’re just some guy who gets along with my mom and my brother. You can’t go ten minutes without snarking at something, but I don’t think you’re that bad.”

“That’s because you don’t know me well enough.” His mirthless laugh devolved into a painful moan as he remembered how damaged his stomach was. “I guess a week in jail and getting carted around by the Avatar has that effect on people. Feng was never that bad in Republic City, but he’d been at this a lot longer than me. All night, I was thinking that if I’m going to wind up that far gone, then…then I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

“I don’t think you are. Wait, hear me out,” Kuvira added before he could say anything. “You ran like someone lit a fire underneath you to help Korra in Zaofu, when even I didn’t trust her. My mom said you threw yourself between her and some wolves without a thought. Yesterday you went and trounced three triads and got your cousin healed up before yourself. I don’t think you would’ve done all that if you were still the person you think you are.”

He took the ice from his eye and looked over at her. It gave him pause to think that the Earth Queen of all people was sitting at his side, trying to talk him up. Then again, she had dispensed with any regalia in favor of her usual olive clothes, which made it somewhat more believable. She put a hand on his undamaged shoulder until he returned her smile. “Thanks, Kuvira. I only wish it was as easy to feel it as it is to listen to you say it.”

The _Pepper_ ’s rotors began spinning up, accompanied by a victorious, incoherent shout from Asami. Both of them stood and looked once more in the direction of Zheifei. “You did a good thing here, Mako.”

“A good thing.” Another smile crept over his lips, unbidden but not unwanted. He took a deep breath, and the weight, the pain, the soft ache in his heart diminished, flowing away as he exhaled. “It’s a start.”


	33. Peacekeepers

“What a damn mess.”

Lin drummed her fingers on the windowsill of the observation tower, looking down over the sorry excuse for Ba Sing Se’s Agrarian Zone. It was the largest stretch of land not scorched to uselessness, and after several days with a team of almost a hundred earthbenders, she and Su had fashioned a respectable base camp. From the observation deck atop the main tower, the ruins of the city were easily visible, stretching almost to the eastern horizon. She noted with some dark humor that at sunset, the tower’s shadow thrust through a gap in the Outer Wall.

Fires were burning all over the city, freshly stoked. Everyone they couldn’t take in lit their fires at sunset, before it became too dark to see what they were doing. Before it became that much harder to make it through one more night. It would have been easy enough to expand the base camp to take in more refugees, but they were out of beds, out of blankets, and their supply lines from Omashu were already strained. Even with earthbenders tilling huge swaths of fallow land for a frantic harvest, there wouldn’t be nearly enough food. Summer was half-gone already, and too many people were starving as it was. Winter would come sooner than any of them would have liked, and they would have to leave before snow blocked the supply lines. All they could do was repair what they could in the little time they had and hope it wasn’t for the sake of fixing up a necropolis.

“I never liked coming here.” Su came up the stairs from the conference room below them, setting two plates of food on a table where they could overlook a good stretch of the camp. Lin sat opposite her and picked at the dumplings on her plate. “Do you remember the summer that Mom dumped us on Grandma and Grandpa and they brought us here?”

“Unfortunately.”

“A solid week of ‘Oh, isn’t this fountain _marvelous_ ’ and ‘ _This_ is how the nobility should live, not cooped up in a police office,’” Su said, putting on an exaggerated imitation of their grandmother.

Lin looked down at the neat little rows of tents and the soldiers buzzing about, shoring up the walls or carting supplies to one of the refugee mess halls at the edge of the camp. “I guess I didn’t take that last one to heart.”

Su laughed, and Lin found herself joining in, if only reluctantly. Loathe as she was to admit it, being away from Republic City, away from all the intrigues and the politicking, was pleasantly refreshing. They got simple, straightforward missions, and though they were often mind-numbingly dull for her taste, there was no stuffy procedure, no answering to a civilian oversight board, and blessedly enough, not nearly as much paperwork. She turned in a single perfunctory report, and that was that. Of course, she knew they weren’t being sent to the front lines where teams were taking the city back block by block, but even so, there was a certain fulfilment to the outreach and survey tasks they were given. _Hearts and minds_ , Iroh called it. Su’s department, certainly, although Lin had a soft spot for the kids they found in ruined, burned-out houses.

“No, you didn’t. You took their tut-tutting in stride, though.” Su leaned back in her chair and looked out over the city. Her grin turned downward. “We’re not going to be able to save all of them. Not even most of them. Kuvira said it was bad, but…it’s like we’re trying to save a ruin at this point.”

“There’s still time,” Lin said, even if the words felt hollow to her. “Don’t forget how many earthbenders we have. And there are plenty of people in that ruin, trying to survive.”

“I know.”

Watching the fires burn through the sunset while they ate was strangely beautiful, creating pinpricks of red and yellow light against a darkened backdrop. Their small meals were gone soon enough, and they sat there in silence, watching the various floodlights come to life around the camp. “You really think we can save it?” Su asked in a hushed tone. There was no one else on the observation deck, and Lin wondered if her sister thought speaking quietly would make it seem any less coldly pragmatic.

“The people? We’ll do what we can. Some of the relief centers along the border should be ready by now. Mako’s people work fast, I’ll give them that. The city…maybe some of it. We won’t ever get into the Middle Ring fighting block by block, though. If we torched and bulldozed the shantytowns and set up actual, stable earthen structures, we could at least start rehoming some of these people. Sticking them in tents isn’t going to help long-term.”

She had more to say, plenty more, as it happened, but they both turned to the noise on the stairs and saw General Iroh coming up to the otherwise empty deck. The back of her neck suddenly felt very hot. They fell silent, and he gave them a quick nod when he saw them at the far table. “Governor. Chief. Is everything all right?”

“Oh, we’re not in my province and she retired, Su and Lin are fine.”

“Leave of absence,” Lin muttered.

“Whatever. We were just thinking about rehoming options for the refugees.”

“I see.” He went to one of the windows with a clipboard and looked out over the camp. “Well, please let me know if you have any ideas you’d like to share. I won’t disturb you.”

Lin shrank in her seat, extending and retracting the tip of the blade on her forearm, while Su steepled her fingers with a smirk. “What?”

She looked at her sister, cocked an eyebrow, and looked pointedly at Iroh, who had his back to them while he did his nightly survey. The change in their bleak conversation was welcome enough, but it was quickly going down a road she didn’t care for. “ _No_ ,” Lin said, raising her voice until she was just out earshot of him. “I’m friends with his mother!”

“Come on, broody firebender! That’s your type, isn’t it? You can scowl at me all you want, you know I’m right.”

“Knock it off.”

“You were getting along in the convoy, weren’t you?” Su asked.

“We were going over the city layout!”

Su rolled her eyes and leaned in further. “Okay, wait. Is this actual reticence, or the kind where you want me to bring you around eventually? Because I think we both agree you have some steam to let off.”

Lin crossed her arms and huffed, glaring at her own lap. Carrying on a hushed conversation was surprisingly stressful. “Fifty-fifty,” she admitted, and Su gave her a smug little smile.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Abject humiliation and possible censure, for starters.”

“The correct answer is ‘he could say no.’ How did you ever get anywhere with Tenzin? Did he do absolutely everything?”

“I had a lot more confidence back then,” Lin said, bending the tines of her fork into helices. “My hair wasn’t gray and everything was still…perky.”

Su reached over and tapped a few times on the metal armor covering Lin’s chest, stopping only when Lin pushed her back with a furious shade of crimson on her face. “You don’t have to test it, okay? Trust me on this one.”

“I think you’re running yourself down for the sake of an excuse. You know there were guys that were interested, you told me so yourself, so stow all the negative self-talk. Give it a fair try, you might be surprised. And then maybe you’d stop being so damn grouchy all the time.”

Lin had no time to retort before Su raised her voice. “That’s a great idea! General, you really should hear my sister’s thoughts on developments for the Lower Ring.”

He looked up from his clipboard, only just coming back to the present moment. Lin shot Su the foulest glare she could muster before turning to face him. “You had a plan, Chief?”

She got up, almost feeling her heart thudding against her armor, while Su smirked and watched her go to the window. There was no reason for the jitters, she told herself, and she almost felt angry at her body for overreacting after such a long stretch of dormancy. Instead she took a weak hold of the iron in her blood, a technique they had developed when the fight against the Equalists had been truly desperate, and clumsily calmed her heart. She had to work through a sudden wave of coldness and a head rush, but it brought her back to baseline quickly enough.

“Um…Lin is fine.”

“Okay, Lin, then. What was it you had in mind?”

“Right now, we can only house a few hundred refugees in the camp, and the rest are stuck outside the perimeter. We should reuse the space we have so that divide doesn’t exist.”

She pointed to the remains of a slum in the Lower Ring, little more than a few freestanding wood walls and the occasional bit of metal in the detritus. “That block, for example. We were there the other day, whatever’s still standing is a total loss, and wouldn’t come anywhere close to passing an inspection. If we had the heavy equipment clear it out, our earthbenders could set up modular shelters based on simple designs. Much harder to burn down stone.”

“Right…start cleaning up the Lower Ring and give them a semblance of normalcy at once. Go on,” he said.

“Torching everything might not go over well, but using firebenders to clear out the lost causes and then having earthbenders set up something afterward would start stemming the flow of people to the camp. If we have to fight for every block, we might as well leave it better than we found it,” Lin said, putting a hand on his shoulder as casually as she could manage, while pointing to where their teams had stopped for the day.

“I see what you mean. And we are running out of space here, even for the soldiers. My only concern is the scope of our operation.” Iroh looked out over to the darkened horizon, where the twisted remains of the palace stood. “Queen Kuvira only gave her consent for us to secure the city, not reshape it.”

Lin let her hand slip down in between his shoulder blades, which also garnered no real response. “My niece is a pragmatic woman. I’m sure she would take it in the manner in which it’s intended.”

She had no idea if that was true, Kuvira had been shut up in a hospital room for almost the entire week and Lin had her own matters to attend to. Still, she rather wanted the idea to land. Flirting or not, she knew it was a good plan and would at least start relieving the refugee problem. Maybe Su was right. Maybe she did just need to give it a fair try—

Iroh suppressed a yelp as her hand drifted slightly lower than she intended, and he loudly cleared his throat while backing up toward the stairs. “Yes, well, that’ll…that’ll be something I’ll see about getting done, Chief. I should go. Ladies.”

He almost tripped getting himself down the stairs, and Lin let her forehead hit the window with a soft _thump_. “Okay, that was…good,” Su lied, coming up beside her. She hit her head on the glass again. “You might’ve gotten a little overzealous at the end there, but it was a good start, really.”

“I want to die,” Lin muttered.

“That’ll stop in a few minutes. Maybe don’t go for the ass so quickly next time—”

“ _Next time_? There’s not going to be any next time, Su. This might be how you get your kicks, but right now I’m so mortified I want to jump through this window.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t jump through the window, it’ll look bad. Plus, you know, you’ll die.” Su laughed weakly at her own joke, but Lin didn’t even sneer, and instead only stared out at the camp. “Come on, I want surly Lin back, I don’t like this Lin. She looks all mopey and depressed.”

“This Lin is easy to read,” she mumbled.

“All right, let’s just…get you back on solid ground,” Su said, tugging at her hand. Lin followed without resistance, and seemed very interested in her own feet as they descended the stairs. “This is _not_ how I get my kicks, by the way. Do you want to see how it’s done? Not on Iroh, he’s probably spooked right now.”

They descended to another level, a storage room full of maps of the city and the surrounding areas, where a few soldiers on punitive cleaning detail were going over every piece of paper with small brushes, wiping away dust. “This sounds suspiciously like a way to get _you_ laid instead of me.”

“Well, you clearly need some kind of instruction.” Another floor of the tower, a honeycomb of supply closets, came and went as they continued down. Lin didn’t remember helping set that one up. “You really haven’t done this since Tenzin, have you?”

“No.”

“That was more than twenty years ago, do you at least, I mean…?”

Lin cringed. She didn’t want the conversation going there, sisters or not. “Fine, just show me. It’s got to be less painful than talking about this.”

Su’s face lit up, but Lin wasn’t sure if it was for the teaching moment or the opportunity to pursue her own gratification. Either way, it put a spring in her step, and they passed the next few floors in a blur. “I see at least one of us inherited Mom’s promiscuity. This really isn’t cheating to you?” she asked, skittering down the steps to keep up with her sister.

“Nope!”

_Whatever. Their marriage isn’t my problem._

Su dragged her through the base camp, lit by temporary floodlights and torches on high, narrow stakes. They were both outside of the actual command structure, more of an advisory and oversight team than anything, and that afforded them a measure of privacy and anonymity as they walked. “It’s simple, really. Men are easy. Women need a little more finesse and there might not be quite as much choice, but I doubt you care much about that.”

“I don’t,” Lin said flatly. She really didn’t know her sister that well after all.

They arrived at the tiny bar attached to the enlisted commissary. Lin liked her fair share of alcohol, more than her fair share if her doctor was to be believed, but it seemed like an unnecessary extravagance in the middle of a military encampment to her. Still, the soldiers needed a way to blow off steam, she supposed. A good stiff drink did more than any bout of counseling after days on end of pulling dead kids out of the rubble.

It was packed, as it always was at night, and only a few people glanced up as they entered. Lin put a few bills on the bar and pointed out the kaoliang while Su took the seat next to her. The private on bartending duty poured her a highball, but Lin grabbed her wrist before she could move away. “Leave the bottle,” she said, putting a few more bills down. She shrugged, collected the money, and went to pour another order.

“This might not work if you drink yourself into a stupor.”

Lin belted back the drink in one smooth gulp, shuddering as it burned its way down her throat. The fuzzy shroud it threw over her thoughts only made things better. “We all have our vices. Go to work.”

“Try to watch at least a little in between bouts of drowning your sorrows, okay? I’m doing this for you. Now let’s see what we have here.”

Su cast a casual glance over the room. They had a good vantage point from the end of the bar, but most of the other patrons were in small groups and focused either on their drinks or their conversations. Her gaze eventually settled on a lone corporal at the other end of the bar, who Lin recognized. One of the military liaisons that had worked with the police in Republic City, and a part of their security detail in Ba Sing Se before being rotated out two days prior. The red stripe on his collar marked him as a firebender, although Lin had never seen him use it.

“Okay. Try not to drink all of that.”

Lin scowled. If Su could have her trysts, she could have her drinks. Her sister slipped out of her seat, moving through the room with a dancer’s grace before settling in beside the corporal, leaning with her back to the bar as she struck up a conversation. Or it looked that way, at any rate. Lin couldn’t make out anything either of them were saying.

“What good is this if I can’t hear you…?”

It almost reminded her of the reconnoitering she did as a detective, sitting in a car in the dead of night with a partner and too much coffee. She was good at that, at least. The bar was made of stone, a crude and hasty construction, and she could have slammed her foot against the side to get at least a snapshot of what they were saying.

But she didn’t want to, she realized. None of it was what she wanted. She still watched, vaguely interested in how fast it was going to be, and Su was already whispering something into his ear that turned his face beet-red. They left shortly after, Su leading him by a single finger she had hooked into his fatigues. She turned back for the briefest of moments, and Lin raised her glass in acknowledgement.

Nursing the remainder of the kaoliang was fine with her. A cool wave of contentment washed over her, starkly different from the warmth provided by her drink. It was only then that she realized that she hadn’t thought of Tenzin since they left Republic City, hadn’t been kept awake by memories, hadn’t given herself over to the oh-so-satisfying recurring daydream where she arrested Pema. There had been a job to focus on. Being in a warzone brought her a measure of peace, and the irony burned as much as her next drink.

Someone sat down beside her and ordered, and her stomach dropped out when she glanced over. He had changed into ordinary fatigues and had his hair done a different way, but it was Iroh. There was no hiding Izumi’s cheekbones or the bright amber in his eyes. Lin scowled and fumbled with her bottle, making him look over and blanch.

“Ah—Chief.”

“Slumming it tonight, General?” she asked, unable to bear looking him in the eye. Instead she focused hard on a stain on the bar in front of her.

“I like to see how things are going with the troops every now and then. Besides, they don’t have this brand of sake in the officer’s bar. Which you were more than welcome to avail yourself of, by the way.”

“Yeah.” She belted back another mouthful. “Listen, about before—my sister put me up to that.”

“It did seem remarkably out of character for you. I was flattered, really, but I’m spoken for.”

“Oh.” That lifted her spirits a bit. Or it might have been the kaoliang. “Can I ask, who…?”

“Admiral Yin. I think you met briefly, before her battleship group started around the northern coast. They’ll be stopping here to take on supplies in a week or two. I, ah…won’t mention this evening to her.”

“I appreciate that.” She looked at her bottle with glassy eyes. There was still half of it left. “Guess you two have a lot in common.”

He grinned into his drink. “You could say that. I don’t see your sister here.”

“Oh, she went to bed.” _Someone’s bed, at least_. She set her glass down, but took her bottle. “Think I’ll do the same. Goodnight, General.”

“Chief. And that was a good idea you had, we’re going to start implementing it tomorrow.”

Lin smiled at that, really smiled, and took her leave before any of the soldiers could recognize their commander. Activity around the camp had settled considerably as people retreated into their barracks, and Lin swung her bottle back and forth until she arrived at their quarters, a little building on the side of the senior officers’ barracks. She slammed her foot into the ground before opening the door—not that it was really necessary, Su wasn’t nearly as quiet as she liked to think—and went inside when she sensed it was empty.

Su returned almost an hour later, stumbling in on shaky legs. and almost collapsed on her bed with several contented sighs. “Firebenders, they’ve always got something to prove…” Finally she seemed to notice her sister on the other bed in her nightclothes, sketching in a small book, the kaoliang forgotten on her nightstand. “Well, did you learn anything, my young apprentice?”

She rolled her eyes. ‘Young’ was not a word that had been directed at her for a long time. “I did, as a matter of fact. Whatever magic way you have with guys half your age isn’t for me. I’m happy like this.” And she was. For the first time in what truly felt like ages, she was happy.

All Su did was shrug and bury her head in her pillow, mumbling happily to herself while the phone rang. “Beifong…whoa, slow down, Mei. How much…well. Far be it from me to ever question your investigative skills again. Good work, Captain. You know what to do. Run him in, and see your mother in the morning about that promotion.”

Lin dropped the phone back on its hook with jittery hands. Her heart was pounding out of her chest again, but in a good way. She unstopped her kaoliang and took a swig right from the bottle, and her nervous bouts of laughter were too much for even an exhausted Su to ignore.

“What’re you on about?”

“I just gave the order to arrest the vice president,” she said, still not quite believing her own shaky voice. Su brought her face out of the pillow and sat up, brow furrowed.

“Then I’m guessing that wasn’t a social call?”

“Mei Kimura, former head of the Council Police. She resigned when Bolin and the others let Mako out to go traipsing around with the Avatar, but I signed her back on and into my office. Special Investigator or something, a job that was easy to bury in the hierarchy where no one could find her. She’s been digging up everything she could on Bolin since before I got knocked into that coma, and now she and her team have everything they need.”

“Is that…wise?” Su asked. “He seemed pretty well-connected.”

“He’s not the president, so sovereign immunity doesn’t apply, and he can’t fight the charges we’ll have brought in the morning. Election fraud, extortion, receiving bribes, distributing bribes, any number of conspiracies, not to mention the unlawful dissolution of a valid government,” Lin said, still a little giddy. “Half of those connections flipped when they were offered deals, and Mei cowed the other half into silence.”

“You’d almost think you had more fun tonight than I did.” Su got up, removed her diadem, and started changing for bed. “Is that why you wanted to be away from the city? To insulate yourself from this?”

“I didn’t want anything thrown out on account of me and my prejudices. This had to be perfect.”

“Well, well…Lin Beifong.” Su paused for a moment as she reached for a nightshirt. “I never took you for such a smooth political operator.”

Lin set the kaoliang on her nightstand and leaned back on her bed. Even noticing that everything was still maddeningly perky on Su couldn’t tarnish her good mood. “Sometimes I surprise even myself.”

She shut the light, and as she laid awake in bed, Su snoring nearby, she felt content. Doing the right thing for the right reasons was something that happened all too rarely for her, or so it felt. It seemed almost dreamlike, and it felt good. _She_ felt good. Not because of Tenzin, or Iroh, or any random guy Su threw at her, not even because of simple pettiness that she had a new criminal sitting in her jail. She felt good because of herself, and that was more than enough for her.


	34. The Avatar and the Fire Lord

Kasai didn’t merely shine in the early morning sun. It gleamed. Where Republic City’s skyline had been impressive enough to Korra, Kasai’s thrust up from the caldera that contained it as if to challenge the sky itself for unquestioned supremacy. Even from a distance, towers formed what seemed like a steady silhouette that took on the shape of an upturned blade, cutting into the clouds drifting lazily overhead. The architects and city planners must have enjoyed creating such an effect. The rising sun struck so much metal and glass on the skyscrapers that it cast a dazzling show of light all over the lower buildings, sure to rouse anyone who wasn’t already awake.

“It’s amazing,” Kuvira said, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Korra nodded, leaning back into her on the bench.

“Not something we can let fall apart. Millions of people live here. Ba Sing Se was bad enough, I can’t let that happen again.”

“We won’t.” Her hand idly wound its way through Korra’s hair, gently working out the knots that she usually gave up on.

As sure as Kuvira sounded, the words never quite worked their way to her heart like their whispered exchanges of “I love you” when they bedded down at night. It would only take one well-aimed dagger, one perfectly timed combustion blast, and it would be over. She had never met the woman, and thought for years that they would come together under very different circumstances, but she found herself wishing desperately that Fire Lord Izumi would have a better life expectancy than the last Earth Queen.

The current Earth Queen, on the other hand, was very much alive, and squeezed her tighter before planting a light kiss on her neck. Korra knew it felt good, but it hit a hollowness in her chest, gnawing at her ever since they set out from Republic City. She dreaded the dark, she dreaded sleeping, she dreaded the same persistent nightmares cycling through night after night like a terrible mover reel. Telling her that she had to die, that she was the last petal of the Red Lotus, that her friends would hunt her down with the same zeal with which she pursued Zaheer and P’Li.

“I—”

 _I don’t want to die_ ¸ she wanted to say. _Please don’t let me die_. Of course she couldn’t say that, couldn’t put that on Kuvira or Asami or even Mako. She was their Avatar. It fell to her to protect them, not the other way around.

And if that meant dying, then that would be what it meant.

“I love you,” she finished, and she rose with Kuvira’s sharp intake of breath. _Please forgive me if I have to leave this world._

“I love you, too.”

Kuvira nuzzled her neck, and though she didn’t look back from the helm, Korra saw Asami stiffen slightly. Things were so much simpler when all she had to do was train.

“We’re almost at Kasai,” Asami said, her voice thick. “Someone should wake up Mako.”

“I’m awake, I’m a—ow! Damn it!”

He struck his head on the cabin ceiling as he did every morning, and Korra bit back a laugh. It wasn’t all gloom in their little ship. “You couldn’t build in a little more headroom, Asami?”

“We’re the same height, and I never hit my head.”

Mako grumbled and climbed down before disappearing into the shower. Korra left breakfast to him—she still didn’t trust herself not to mangle their food without his guidance—and he managed to whip up a small plate of baozi that they all picked at while Asami guided them into the Fire Nation capital.

The massive spires didn’t have quite the same effect up close, Korra thought. It was as if she were only looking at a very small portion of a painting, and the perspective was all off. Where from a distance the towers formed a beautiful blade cutting through the air, up close they were garish sentinels that lacked all scale and towered cruelly over the rest of the city.

“The crown jewel of the Fire Nation,” Asami said, tuning the radio to the proper frequency. “Kasai.”

She pronounced it the same way that Kuvira did, accentuating the last two letters while Korra and Mako ran through the name more quickly. A few prickles of familiarity needled up Korra’s spine as she looked out the window and Asami spoke with the air traffic control. That wasn’t right. She had never been to Kasai. A few small villages on the eastern islands for supplies or things they couldn’t make themselves, but never Kasai. Zaheer would’ve had an aneurysm if she had ever suggested it. The thought brought a mirthless smile to her lips.

_Then why does it seem so familiar?_

After several minutes of Asami throwing around numbers and jargon that she didn’t understand, they were finally given a mooring point well away from the palace. Korra frowned. They could have identified themselves as a diplomatic flight, but she had no idea how far or how deep the roots of the Red Lotus extended. Kuvira hid her crown in her bag and quickly undid her braid, letting her hair spill over her shoulders to at least change that slight bit of her appearance. Korra pulled a sleeve over her scarred arm, Asami put her own hair into a high, tight ponytail, and Mako at least made the effort to look as casual and forgettable as possible.

The _Pepper_ came down softly over the tarmac. Korra reflected on how graceful their airship was when its rotors weren’t failing. Rather than shooting tethers out to burrow into the ground, Asami extended them slowly so a pair of workers could attach the cables to the back of a small truck that brought them into just the right position for docking. They reeled in by small degrees until the gangplank could rest on the ground.

When they disembarked, Asami pushed away the stack of documents one of the workers offered to her and pressed a large stack of yuans into his hand, as well as his colleague’s. “We were never here, you don’t know who owns this airship, it came in the night and the graveyard crew lost the paperwork. Understand?”

“What airship?” one of them asked, counting the money with poorly restrained glee. Asami smiled and they made their way into the terminal.

Korra had wanted to wear a hood, but they talked her out of it. Wearing one on a hot, late summer day would only bring more attention, Mako had said. She settled for letting her wolf tail out and having her hair fall loose over her head to conceal the shaved-down sides. Kuvira gave her hand a comforting squeeze while Mako retrieved a city map from a nearby kiosk.

“It’s about an hour’s walk to the palace,” he said, holding up the map. “There’s mass transit, but that involves a lot of sitting around and maybe getting noticed.”

Korra shook her head. “We’ll walk. Good chance to stretch our legs, anyway.”

“And you should change.” Mako pointed at her whole outfit. “You stick out in that getup.”

She put a hand over her stomach, running some of the fabric between her thumb and first finger. Nothing interested her less than baring her midriff in a local outfit and putting all her scars on display. These were _her_ clothes, clothes Asami had given her. “No.”

“Suit yourself. We should get going before someone sees us, then. You three don’t exactly blend.”

On that issue, Korra couldn’t fight him. She and Kuvira were both powerfully built, very noticeably so in their snug clothing, and Asami was tall and striking. How Mako came to be leading them out of the terminal and onto the street, she didn’t know. He moved with rare aplomb while scouting the sidewalks, moving them through alleys when he deemed it appropriate, and generally doing everything in his power to get three very recognizable women around a very crowded city without anyone noticing them. Even more amazingly to Korra, he did it all without so much as a grumble, only a quiet confidence.

“You’re good at this,” she said when he returned to the entrance of the alley he left them in.

“Growing up on the street, you learn a few things.” Mako waved them forward when he was satisfied they wouldn’t draw any attention on the sidewalk. “It’s easy not to be noticed, if you know how.”

Korra felt a headache coming on as they went through an older district of the city, one left untouched by the rapid march into modernity, along with a painful tension in the rest of her body. Her period had stopped more than a week ago, that couldn’t have been it, but something still pricked at her in the same way that familiarity chilled its way through her when they first approached Kasai. She put a hand on her unscarred temple and almost tripped over a bit of cobblestone.

“You okay?” Kuvira asked, reaching out to steady her.

“Fine.” It wasn’t true. A small lie, but one that still stung through her. She had never lied to Kuvira, she realized. Never dabbled in honeying mutual deception as she had with Asami when they were in Republic City. It didn’t feel good. “Just my head.”

Walking around with one woman clutching at her head wasn’t good for staying unnoticed, Mako reasoned, and he put them on a bench while he got some water from a store nearby. Asami put a hand on her shoulder, as Kuvira was doing on her opposite side. “Do you think it’s from your injuries?” she asked. “Having a piece of shrapnel forced into your skull at high speed can’t be good.”

“No.” That was true, at least. “It’s not the same kind of pain. That’s a hot, sharp sting, pressing down on the top of my eye. This is…throbbing. All over. Throbbing and pounding everywhere in my head like when—”

_Like when I thought you were dead and I was ready to burn the world to ashes._

“Like when I’m forced into the Avatar State,” she finished. Not a lie, Korra told herself. Not really. Hiding so much of herself behind placating words, assurances accompanied by weak smiles flashed at the people who cared about her, make her feel uncomfortably like a rat. Like one of the hypothetical sleazy politicians Zaheer concocted who were only too happy to live down to the expectations he planted in her head.

She wished so badly she could be honest. Wished she could share her fears. _This fight is going to kill me. I’m going to die destroying the Red Lotus_. But Asami was still reconciling ideology with reality and Kuvira had the shambles of an entire nation to piece back together. The fears and terrors of a middling Avatar were minor in comparison.

A cup of water came over her shoulder. “Here,” Mako said, also dropping a candy bar in her lap from behind. “They made me buy something before they’d give me the water.”

“Thank you.” She took long, deep gulps and worked through the chocolate in four quick bites. The throbbing persisted. “Hopefully it’ll work, let’s keep going.”

“We can take a quick break, Korra. The rest of us lose a bit of legitimacy if we barge into the Fire Lord’s office and you’re passed out. There’s an alley there we can wait in.”

“No.” Her voice was solid, resolute. She stood up, and Asami and Kuvira followed. “We don’t have the luxury of time. You didn’t see Ba Sing Se, Mako. I can only imagine what kind of hell P’Li could rain down if she blew up the supports for those skyscrapers.”

“You haven’t talked about her,” Kuvira said. “And no one’s ever dealt with what you’ve said she can do. Not for almost eighty years, anyway.”

“I saw it,” Asami said, shivering despite the heat. “On Air Temple Island. She blew away ten Equalists and blasted through a huge rock like it was nothing.”

Korra shrugged. “She was my friend when they first took me. Pretended to be, anyway. She made my clothes and taught me to read. I felt so guilty about burning down my house, and she taught me how to control fire. How to make lightning. I never could pick up combustionbending, though. Avatar or not, I think that’s something you’re born with.”

She paused and realized they were all looking at her. “But you meant her actual abilities, didn’t you…it’s hard to explain. It’s just focusing chi through the tattoo and light chakra at her forehead. Hit her there, and it won’t work. She’ll have to use regular firebending. We have to get metal or something similar around her forehead and then chi block her. I can do that. But she can curve the blasts, and they’re hard to see. I should be the one to fight her.”

Her head felt a little better as she talked. Mako glanced back while they waited at an intersection. “What, and take all the glory for yourself? We’re more than your cabin crew, Korra. Let us help.”

Korra attributed the shift in his attitude to whatever Kuvira had said to him as they were leaving Zheifei, and while she knew he was only joking in his usual way, his words still galled her. There was no glory to win, no victories to hail. They were hunting people and probably going to die in the attempt. She didn’t have the heart to respond. It figured that Mako would start acting like a decent person only for him to end up in the line of fire with her. Korra only gave him a noncommittal hum in response while they walked through the increasingly old streets.

The skyscrapers cast massive shadows as the morning went on, looming high and far as they rounded the last corner. An enormous gated estate stood atop a slight hill, with three smaller buildings surrounding a tall, almost spindly central tower. Parts of it had obviously been restored, but care had been taken to preserve the palace as it had been since before anyone could recall.

And then Korra _remembered_.

Each step she took toward the gate was not her own. First it was the simple boot of an Air Nomad, then the gilded slipper of Fire Nation nobility. Visions rudely crowded her sight, showing her people on the street in obviously antiquated clothing who weren’t really there. She _knew_ they weren’t there, and yet they felt as real as the scars on her body or the air in her lungs.

The painful throbbing in her head returned with a vengeance, crowding out her own thoughts. Korra grimaced and tried to stay steady as they approached the main guard post. “Let me handle this one,” Kuvira said, tying back her hair and reluctantly slipping on her crown.

She only got snippets of the conversation while her head swam.

“Didn’t they get a new queen?” someone asked. A guard.

“Yeah. Get that newspaper.” Another guard. “She does look a lot like the Earth Queen.”

“Because I _am_ the Earth Queen!” Exasperation had snuck into Kuvira’s usual low, measured voice. Korra realized what was happening. She saw Fire Lords she didn’t know from eyes that were not her own.

“Get out,” she muttered, prompting Mako and Asami to look back at her while she held her head in her hands, shaking it back and forth like she was trying to get a bit of water out of her ear. _You all want to waltz in now?_ “Get out, GET OUT!”

The words turned to ashes in her mouth, and she struck her head against the wall encircling the palace. A stitch burst, and blood dripped down her cheek as she hit her head again and again. Bright white light overtook her vision, and she felt the crackle of electricity around her before the darkness.

⁂

Inconceivable loss, tentative hope for the future—Aang. His cheerfulness infected as much as his sorrow. A memory of bending pure energy, pure chi, not once but twice, swirled away as quickly as it had surfaced. She had the most lessons about him, few of them good.

Betrayal, failure—Roku. Korra watched through him as his friend laid the world low and made plans to burn away what parts wouldn’t submit. His visage was ugly, twisted. Zaheer had never encouraged any admiration of him, after all.

Steely will, some kind of painful incongruence she couldn’t place—Kyoshi, maybe. Korra had never learned much about her. Ruinous apathy and carving out her own city-state had earned her no great place in the Red Lotus’ lessons.

Grief, regret—Kuruk, certainly. The pain of lost love struck poignantly at her heart, as did the haunting thoughts of what could have been. Another Avatar that Zaheer had gone to great lengths to lambast.

Serenity, solemn duty—Yangchen. The only Avatar for whom Zaheer accorded some measure of respect, and then begrudgingly.

All of them, dozens of faces where only a few looked familiar, swirled in her mind, all speaking at once. Korra just wanted it to end. She wanted _her_ thoughts, _her_ face, _her_ friends.

“Raava,” she said weakly, calling out to the void. “Please, please make it stop.”

It stopped.

She gasped as she awoke, trying to sit up despite the rush of blood to her head. Kuvira sat at her side, hair once more in its sleek braid, and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from getting up too quickly. “Easy, easy. I know you said you were tired of waking up in hospitals, how’s prison sound?”

“What…?”

Korra looked around. She, Kuvira and Asami were in a large cell, while Mako was by his lonesome across the hall. “I keep getting thrown in jail because of you.”

She ignored him and looked around the cell. There were three cots including the one she was sitting on, plus a sink and a toilet. Nothing else. She felt at the floor with her bare feet. “This is stone. Those bars aren’t platinum. Why are we still in here?” she asked, turning to Kuvira.

“I did think of that,” Kuvira said, fixing Korra’s hair so that it hung behind her ear the way she liked. “And then I thought that the Fire Lord might not be very amenable to listening to four escapees forcing their way into her office.”

“Why does everyone think I’m not going to knock?”

It was the best attempt at humor she could muster just then, but a loud, dangerous voice rang out from somewhere down the hall. “You did _what_?”

“We—it was standard procedure, Your Highness, we didn’t know—”

Mako reflexively cringed at the sound of a hand singing across a cheek. “Enough! Give me the keys and wait here. I’m not done with either of you.”

There was a single set of rushed footsteps down what sounded like stairs, and soft muttering until a woman stepped into view of their cells. She didn’t look that much older than any of them, maybe thirty if that, and she wore a simple pantsuit while a bit of gold in the shape of a flame adorned her topknot. The sharp features of her face looked remarkably like Iroh in the brief time Korra had met him. Her glower softened as she worked a key into their cell door, and she took a step back while it slid open.

“Avatar Korra. Your Majesty. Miss Sato.” She looked over her shoulder. “Mr. Han. I’m terribly sorry about this mess.”

“You know who we are?” Mako asked, clearly more impressed that someone actually knew who _he_ was.

“I do,” the woman said, unlocking his cell. “I’m the director of our intelligence service, it behooves me to know these things. Your antics in Zheifei didn’t go unnoticed, despite how quickly you left.”

“And you knew we were coming here?” Asami asked.

“I doubted you were on your way to Ember Island. Although it’s lovely this time of year, you should visit if you have the chance.”

Korra looked at her, but saw no malice in her eyes, only fatigue and maybe a bit of curiosity. Of course, Zaheer never had malice in his eyes, either. “I’m afraid you have us at a disadvantage, then.”

“This is Princess Izula,” Kuvira said, giving her a courteous nod.

She returned a small bow. “Crown Princess actually, Your Majesty.”

Mako laughed, though none of them could tell why. “Hat trick,” he mumbled, and fell silent again.

“I thought Prince Iroh was next in line for the throne?” Kuvira asked.

“ _General_ Iroh forswore any claim to the throne when he began serving in a foreign military, I believe you have a similar law. Not to mention getting engaged to an Earth Kingdom princess. Your cousin, I believe. Yin. Pleasant enough woman. Now who was banging their head on the fence around my house?”

Korra could feel her face flushing as her hand went to a fresh bandage on her temple. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She had an inkling, but she didn’t have nearly as many compunctions about lying to a woman she just met as she did about lying to her friends. “But we need to speak with the Fire Lord right away, how long have we been in here?”

“About two hours,” Mako said, stepping out of his cell.

“My mother tends to be busy in the middle of the day, but I’m sure she can make time for the Avatar and the Earth Queen.” Izula’s small half-smile faltered. “This is about the Red Lotus?”

She nodded, still reeling from a bit of dizziness. Izula beckoned them out of their cell and led them up a short flight of stairs, where the two palace guards from the gate were still standing stock-still, breaths catching in their throats when they caught sight of Izula.

They retrieved their things, with the noticeable exception of a certain rose-gold circlet, safely stowed in a case behind a desk. “My crown, please,” Kuvira said dryly. The guards didn’t move until Izula nodded, and then they nearly climbed over one another to return it.

“We’re very sorry, Your Majesty,” one of them said. Izula scoffed.

“You can be sorry while you’re guarding our embassy in the Northern Water Tribe, and count yourself lucky you didn’t start a war. Ladies, Mako. My car is waiting.”

Izula brought them to a jet-black limousine with small Fire Nation flags on either side of the hood. She ushered them into the back before tapping on the partition to signal the driver, and they were off.

“Your Highness, about the Red Lotus,” Korra began, but she put a hand up.

“Save your speeches for my mother, Avatar. You don’t have to convince me. They need to die.”

“Oh.” That seemed rather easy, although it unsettled her that such a high-ranking government official was so casual about sanctioning the deaths of two people. “I heard a different answer from the Fire Lord.”

She nodded, frowning and looking out the darkened window. “The Diet won’t sanction any assassinations because they need to be reelected, and my mother is a very…idealistic woman. More like my grandfather than she’ll care to admit, and not in a good way. She doesn’t like being involved in the wetwork that keeps the country stable, but I _will_ keep my family safe, no matter how many nationals I have to kill.”

Izula sighed at the thought. “Everyone seems to think I’m some awful phantom of my great-aunt, but if that’s the price I pay for being the only pragmatic member of my family, then so be it. She wants to go ahead with this stupid demonstration tomorrow that was a nightmare to secure in the first place…she may as well walk into a bear trap.”

Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the window until she reached under her seat and produced two folders, handing one to Korra and one to Kuvira. “Their dossiers, if you’re interested. I got the sense from your speech that they weren’t always totally honest with you.”

Korra looked over the reports, Zaheer’s in her lap, P’Li’s in Kuvira’s next to her. They had been busy over the years, it seemed. Bombings, assassinations of minor government functionaries on the eastern islands, an attempt to steal one of the copies of the nation’s constitution, to say nothing of the many papers she didn’t look through. “These other dossiers. Ghazan and Ming-Hua. Can I close their cases?” Izula asked, holding up two more folders.

“I killed Ming-Hua. Asami killed Ghazan.”

“Good. No great loss.” Izula looked approvingly at Asami before burning the dossiers to ashes in her hand. “Oh, and I was sorry to hear about your brother’s troubles, Mr. Han.”

“Mako’s fine, Your Highness. Wait. What?”

She cocked her head and looked at him for a long moment, watching him with a cool, impassive gaze. Finally, her half-smile returned, but it was a politician’s smile to Korra, empty, all show. “They arrested him last night, pending trial. Doesn’t that airship of yours have a radio?”

“Bolin?” All the color drained from his face, and he recoiled from her words as if they struck him in the gut. “But…why? Who?”

“The police, I assume. We’ve been asking the very same questions all morning, but the United Republic’s intelligence service got a new director at almost the same time.” She took a small piece of paper from her sleeve, looked it over, and then burned that as well. “Maybe one of you knows her…Mei Kimura?”

Mako groaned.

“Anyway. She isn’t very keen on sharing any details at the moment. It’d sound like a coup, but your president is safe and sound while Bolin’s sitting in jail,” Izula said, as casual as if she were talking about the weather. Korra caught her gaze and felt an uncomfortable chill run down her spine, stopping midway, near her heart. “It’s not a threat to us, at any rate. I care about what happens inside our borders and that hasn’t included the United Republic for a long time. No, if I had to look for something to be wary of, it’d be you.”

“Me?” Korra asked, shifting in her seat. Izula remained perfectly still, watching with the same disinterested look. “What are you talking about?”

“If I was the paranoid type—and I am, it comes with the territory—I wouldn’t put a very long con past you. You’re about to have the Earth Queen and the Fire Lord in the same room at the same time. A windfall like that would be well worth the effort, no?”

“You—”

Korra’s fists tightened up before Kuvira put a hand on her shoulder. “There have been more than enough chances for an assassination. I trust Korra with my life,” she said, putting the hard, royal edge on her voice again.

Izula gave them a dismissive wave of her hand. “Yes, yes, I’ve seen the papers. So very smitten with each other.” She grimaced, and Asami sat on her hands, bumping Mako with her elbow as she did. “Please spare me any earnest attempts to prove how in love you really are, I’ve just had lunch. I doubt you would have gone through all this trouble for nothing more than a few quick kills, anyway. I’m taking you to see my mother, aren’t I?”

Her expression softened the slightest bit, and Korra calmed down. The ache in her head was back, the smooth, sharp voice running over her mind like a knife. “Is this always how you make conversation?”

The limo rolled onto the palace grounds. “My little sister says I have a morbid sense of humor, too. I apologize if I touched a nerve, Avatar Korra. Most of my day is spent thinking up worst-case scenarios and finding ways to recover from them.”

She bristled, but leaned into Kuvira rather than saying anything. Korra wasn’t sure she liked the Fire Nation government much.

Everything was bright and terribly warm inside the palace, where the walls were covered in red and gold lacquer with maps and murals dotted throughout. No one so much as looked askance at them with Izula leading the way, and indeed did everything they could to scramble out of her path. All the while, Korra found herself taking a tentative step down the wrong hallway or into another room for no other reason than she felt like she remembered where she was going. _Whichever one of you is doing this, get out of my head._

They came to the largest set of doors, enormous slabs of mahogany stained a deep and imposing red. Gold inlay served as handles, though none of them could imagine what kind of creature could use such things. Izula showed them through a much more sensibly-sized door off to the side, and then they were in the throne room.

Hot, searing blades of remembrance slashed at Korra, but she endured, letting them wash over her as Kuvira’s hand found the small of her back. She looked at the queen and smiled before turning to the cavernous space before them.

Where Korra remembered a curtain of fire burning brightly to shroud the throne itself, which sat empty, there were a few tasteful lamps flanking a much more sensible desk with a very harried, middle-aged woman sitting behind it. She glanced up as the door shut, and her focused look softened in an instant. “Izula.”

“Mother.” She waved them forward, and Korra’s group followed her through the room. “I brought friends.”

She went around the desk and met them in the middle of the room, where there were a few chairs and couches arranged for small meetings, and hugged Izula tightly. “Avatar Korra, Queen Kuvira, Asami Sato, Mako Han. May I present Fire Lord Izumi.”

A memory—one of Aang’s, she supposed—hit her hard, an image of a much younger woman with a long flow of shining black hair and an admiring, embarrassed look hidden behind thick glasses. It faded as soon as it appeared, and the real Izumi remained standing before her. Most of her hair had grayed, with only a few wisps of black remaining, and the frame of her glasses was different. It was still her, though. The same sharp cheekbones, the same restrained look in her eye. Just a little older. They all bowed, and Izumi followed suit. “Your Majesty,” Korra mumbled. The words still felt strange on her tongue, no matter how many times she teased Kuvira with them. They were words she thought she would only ever use mockingly, something pithy to say in her teenage daydreams in the seconds before wiping out a world leader.

But now the words were real, and as strange as they might have been, there was no rancor behind them, no dripping venom. Only fatigue. She was so tired.

“Avatar Korra. Queen Kuvira.” She nodded at Asami and Mako as well before they all took seats on the couches. Izula remained standing, watching Korra without making it terribly obvious. _Guess she still doesn’t trust me_. “I was sorry to hear about your family, Your Majesty. And your city. We’ll have to discuss restorative aid soon, I’m sure.”

“Hey, are these rice cakes?” Mako asked, looking in a container on the table between the couches. Izumi nodded.

“Please, help yourself.”

“My city is Zaofu, ma’am,” Kuvira said in her cool, low, measured tones while Mako and Asami split the rice cakes. “But any help the Fire Nation could provide would be more than welcome and repaid in full. General Iroh’s brigade will only be able to do so much, I’m afraid, and to hear Princess Izula tell it, the United Republic is less than reliable at the moment.”

“Iroh’s leading that force?” Izumi asked, leaning forward in her seat, abandoning some of her stately dignity.

“You knew that, Mother. I told you two weeks ago. He always was a pig for the glory. Would’ve marched there barefoot day and night if Yin asked him to.”

The mention of her future daughter-in-law brought a cool expression back to Izumi’s face. “Yes. Well. You have my assurances that he’ll perform admirably, Your Majesty. Iroh was never one to do anything in half-measures. Although I’m sure you’ve come here in secret—”

“A badly kept secret,” Izula said, smirking until she withered under her mother’s glare.

“Do. Not. Interrupt me. As I was saying, I assume that the Avatar is the one actually making the visit, and she isn’t only here as your…window dressing.”

There was a sharpness to her words, but then the faintest smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and Korra breathed a sigh of relief. At least they didn’t have that working against them. Tenzin had already been less than approving, and nearly half the newspapers in Republic City had seemed more interested in voyeuristic tut-tutting than in reporting the disaster in Ba Sing Se. Neither of them had elected positions, which gave them the luxury of some small apathy, but seeing the hit pieces in the papers piled up by Kuvira’s bed in the hospital still stung.

She pushed it out of her mind. There were more important things to focus on.

“I’m sure you know why I came,” Korra said finally, trying to measure her words in the way that Kuvira did with such little effort. “And with all due respect, destroying what’s left of the Red Lotus isn’t up to the Diet, or even you. They won’t stop until you and every other world leader is dead, or they are.”

_Most of what’s left of the Red Lotus. There’s still me._

Whatever inkling of a smile Izumi had died away as she steepled her hands in her chair. “You aren’t above the law here, Avatar Korra. Whatever transpired in the Southern Water Tribe or the Earth Kingdom, murder is murder. This is even beyond that—you’re asking me to condone the assassinations of two of my own citizens.”

“Two _terrorists_ , Mother,” Izula said, her voice plaintive and pleading.

“Do you know what they did to Chief Unalaq?” Korra asked, frustration working into her tone. “To Queen Hou-Ting and the rest of the Earth Kingdom royal family? Their heads were decoration for spikes by the time we got to Ba Sing Se.”

Kuvira nodded, but kept her voice dispassionate, a level-headed contrast to an exasperated Avatar. “A single man laid half the city to ruin in a matter of days, and so severely that I’ve had to recall what’s left of my government to Zaofu. It may have to become the permanent capital. While I can’t say that I’ve ever had any strong feelings on the Fire Nation, I don’t want that to happen to Kasai, or any other city. Millions of people live here.”

Izumi sighed deeply and removed her glasses, placing them in her lap. “Korra, Kuvira,” she began, addressing them so informally that Asami almost choked on a rice cake. “I realize that I’m not as young as either of you anymore, but I’m not deaf. I can hear you perfectly well. Our reports from Ba Sing Se were horrific. I know that this is a very clear, very present threat to myself, my government, and my country, and I would like nothing more than to be rid of this Zaheer and P’Li once and for all.”

For a moment Korra hoped they had gotten through to her, and even Izula looked optimistic.

“But I’m not above the law.” Korra deflated somewhat while Izula shook with impotent frustration. “I don’t have the power to decide who should live and who should die. My great-great-grandfather thought he had that power, and he would have burned the world if he could have lorded over the cinders afterward. Because of him I could have counted the number of airbenders in the whole world on one hand, until a few months ago.”

She looked at Asami, who was still trying to quietly dislodge a piece of rice cake from her throat. Mako jabbed her with his elbow until she noticed all the attention in the room was on her, and then she turned a rather bright shade of red. It almost matched the room, Korra thought. Izula seemed to get some of her wherewithal back in the meantime. “Mother, if you won’t sanction this as a matter of record—”

“You will _not_ have the intelligence directorate defy this office.” Lightning crackled through her voice, and a few sparks flew from her fingertips before she reined herself in. “I know you do the unpleasant, necessary things, Izula. The difficult things. I’m asking you to do a difficult thing now and _stop_ , honey.”

Izula bit back tears with such force that a line of blood trickled from where her teeth pierced her lip. “You’re asking me to let you walk around with a target on your back,” she said thickly. “You and Grandfather…do you really think your honor or your ideals are so much more important than your country having a leader they trust and love? Is it more important than Iroh and Hanako and I having our mother? Are you so high-minded that we mean so little to you?”

She got up faster than Korra would have thought possible and pulled her daughter into a hug.

“You mean _everything_ to me.”

Izula did her best, but a few tears dripped and hit her mother’s suit. Korra shifted uncomfortably with the others, unsure if they should have been present for such a personal, private display. They remembered they weren’t alone after a minute, mercifully enough, and all of them looked pointedly away while the princess and the Fire Lord collected themselves.

“I realize that I don’t have a station or title or anything like that, but I do have a suggestion,” Asami said, and they all turned to her again. “Princess Izula mentioned some kind of demonstration on the ride over here that seemed to be a sticking point? Is it something that’s vitally necessary for you to attend, Your Majesty?”

“That’s…complicated, Miss Sato,” Izumi said before clearing her throat. “Explaining the twisted state of our national politics would take the better part of the day and is very likely beyond the scope of my abilities, so I’ll sum it up as best I can. My executive branch of the government is constantly struggling with the Diet for a greater deal of control. Budgets, authority on things not specifically outlined in our constitution, things like that. Two boards of directors trying to outmaneuver one another for power over a single company, if you like. As it stands, the Diet isn’t quite as scared of me as they were of my father when he established the system.”

Asami nodded, and Mako and Kuvira followed along as well. Trying to keep up only made Korra like Fire Nation politics less and less.

“You’re wondering how that comes back around to your question, I’m sure. Tomorrow happens to be the convergence of two important holidays, one Fire Nation and one Air Nation that we observe _in memoriam_. I could absolutely come down with a terrible chest cold tomorrow and stay in bed all day. I could decide to just not go to the firebending demonstration at all, my father won’t drag me there by my ear…again…but it means giving the Diet more ammunition to use against me. I rather like having the power to help all of my people, not only the ones who own those skyscrapers and donate to election campaigns.”

“We aren’t here to upheave the balance of your government, ma’am,” Kuvira said, putting a hand on Korra’s knee and squeezing. Her head still hurt terribly, and she was more than happy to let the others do the talking. “And it sounds like you’re going to this demonstration, despite any objections that might be raised.”

Izumi nodded, and Izula wiped her eyes dry. “You think this threat is actionable, Korra?” Kuvira asked.

“Yeah. Tomorrow’s the Day of Remembrance over the war and falls on the same day as the Air Nomad calendar’s midpoint. Zaheer won’t miss the opportunity to make a statement like that.”

“Then let us provide some extra security, and if anything does happen, we’ll do our best to take them alive. You have my word.”

She waited for a response while Izumi studied her. They were equals, at least on paper, but the fingers digging into her knee told Korra that Kuvira was fighting to keep her nerves down. “You’re the Earth Queen,” Izumi said, incredulous. “You guarding me would send an interesting message, to say the least.”

“I’m not being vain when I tell you that I’m the best metalbender you’ll ever meet. Not to mention our airbending chi-blocking expert, master lightningbender, and the Avatar. If you think there would be political ramifications, don’t announce anything. The palace guards didn’t even know who I was when I was right in front of them, and Mako and Asami can certainly blend in. Please. We already have one country in shambles and another on the edge, we can’t lose the Fire Nation as well.”

“You’re good at this, you know,” Izumi said with a wry smile. “Seems to me you’ll make an excellent queen. Very well. We can keep up the low profile you all tried so admirably to maintain for as long as we need. Izula can show you to your quarters until we have all the information about tomorrow. Ah—I trust three rooms will be sufficient?”

Korra felt her face flush and saw something flash on Asami’s face, gone as quickly as it had come. “Yes, that will be fine, thank you,” Kuvira said, also going red under the collar.

They filed back out while Izumi returned to her desk, and Korra pinched the bridge of her nose. “It would’ve been hard enough to protect her if she _wasn’t_ walking into a trap,” she said when the door was securely closed behind her. Izula gave an affirmative hum before directing them down another corridor. Nothing about it tugged at Korra’s sense of familiarity, and so she was able to keep up.

“All the proclamations and honor in the world won’t be worth anything if she’s killed. If you get to these people first, they’re all yours. If my staff finds them, I’ll take whatever rebukes I get for killing them. They can yank me out of the line of succession and give Hanako the throne, I’m not going to let them kill my mother.”

She didn’t know whether she preferred to find Zaheer first or let the princess have him. If it came to that, he had to die, principles or no principles. Banishment from the Fire Nation seemed like a small price to pay for keeping it intact. “There was an odd lack of snark back there, Mako,” Korra said.

“Just thinking about my brother. He’s in jail and I’m not, this has never happened before. I hope he’s okay.”

That was half-true, he was in some legal limbo between probation and a work release, but it was leaps and bounds better than being confined to a cell, she supposed. She wanted to tell him that he would be fine and find some way to weasel out of it, but somehow it didn’t seem like it would have the intended effect. Instead she nodded, awash in her own thoughts.

They would be there. Korra was sure of that. The Fire Lord and the crown princess in the same place would be too tempting a target for Zaheer to ignore, to say nothing of the Earth Queen and the Avatar. She had half a mind to keep Mako and Asami from going, if only to minimize the collateral damage that was sure to ensue, but they would fight to be there, she knew. Her friends wouldn’t abandon her, even if she pleaded.

_And then they’ll kill me, too. The last petal of the Red Lotus._

She shook her head clear and walked right into Asami’s back, jumping back when she saw they had stopped so that Izula could throw open the door to one of the guest rooms. “Sorry. Wait, this is a _spare_ bedroom?”

She thought the Beifong estate had been opulent, but the back wing of the palace’s guest quarters was lavish beyond anything Korra ever dreamed possible. Izula shrugged while Korra stepped inside, looking around at more empty space than she had ever seen in a bedroom. The room itself was nearly as big as her house had been, to say nothing of the other cramped accommodations she was used to. Everything was slightly darkened and lit by small sconces along the wall, with two of them flanking an enormous bed. “You could fit all of us on that thing!”

“I really don’t care to know what…sleeping arrangements you’re planning,” Izula said while she pointed out two more doors on the opposite side of the hallway. “Those are the other rooms, you can use the phones inside to order whatever you’d like from the kitchens. My staff might have more information about your brother now, Mako. If you’d like to follow me?”

⁂

“Is something wrong?”

The food from the kitchens smelled sumptuous, was expertly arranged, and came in such large servings that two people could have had their fill from each plate. Still, Korra only picked idly at it with her chopsticks, moving the food around more than eating it. Her head had finally stopped aching, but memories of the palace from past lives continued to seep into her mind, showing her people who weren’t really there, making her remember events centuries past as if they were only hours old.

Korra looked at Asami across the table, and then to Kuvira next to her. She wasn’t aware of who had asked the question, only that it was one of them. There was no one else in the bedroom, after all.

 _Everything is wrong_ , she wanted to say. _The sanctity of my mind is under attack and I can’t see myself coming out of this mess alive._

There was no use in continuing to lie, she decided. If she could fall useless at an inopportune moment, they needed to know. She didn’t want them being put in danger because of her.

“My past lives are finally breaking through,” Korra said, spearing a dumpling she had no intention of eating.

Asami cocked her head. “You don’t sound very happy about it.”

“They’re not staying put. Every few minutes I want to fix some face paint that isn’t there or adjust a kimono I’m not wearing. I get these shots of pain in my feet because my boots suddenly aren’t big enough.”

“Sounds like Kyoshi,” Kuvira said.

“I’m…I’m seeing things that aren’t there,” she admitted, despising the feeling of weakness washing over her. “Their memories of this place. It’s like every damn Avatar had to make a pilgrimage here or something.”

“Your two immediate predecessors were here a lot.” The look of concern never faltered from Asami’s face while she spoke. “Roku grew up here as a courtier, and Aang visited Lord Zuko often. I’m sure the others met with Fire Lords every now and then. I think one of them _was_ the Fire Lord.”

Korra nodded, resting her hand under her chin. “I can tell what’s happening now and what isn’t after a few seconds, because the clothing in the memories is ridiculous, but it _feels_ so real for that first instant. I thought there was a chambermaid coming into the room before I realized it was something Kyoshi was remembering.” She wanted to laugh despite herself. “All those years of trying to get in touch with my past lives…now it’s like they want to make up for lost time and they’re climbing over my memories and thoughts to do it.”

A hand rested lightly on her shoulder. Kuvira’s thumb moved over the end of her collarbone in an attempt to comfort her, and Korra wished desperately that it did more to put her at ease. “You’ll get it under control. If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”

“Nothing like that ever happens to either of you, does it? Remembering things you never learned, feeling like new places are familiar for no reason?”

“I’m pretty sure that only comes with the Avatar spirit,” Asami said.

“Right.” Infected with the memories and feelings of others, crowded out of her own mind—that was only for her. Korra stood up and dropped her napkin onto her plate. She wasn’t going to eat any more, anyway. “I’m going to take a little walk. Maybe try and get more of the memories out so they don’t bother me later.”

She felt their gazes on her as she slipped out of the bedroom and back into the hall. A guard Izula had posted there for them straightened up a bit, but she ignored him and started down the corridor, opposite from the way they had come hours prior. The insistence on architectural uniformity was beginning to confuse her, as every hallway looked much like the one before it. She knew there was an onyx inlay on the door to her room, but beyond that everything else was so similar that she wondered how anyone found anything in the palace. Finally, she took a corner a bit too tightly and ran right into someone.

“Ah, sorry, I—Mako?”

His hair was disheveled, his shirt was on inside-out, and there was an unmistakable scent about him, but it was Mako, all right. He pointedly avoided her gaze, instead becoming quite taken with the design on the ceiling. “Korra.”

“Should I even ask?”

“I guess that depends on whether or not you want the answer,” he said with a shrug.

Korra rubbed the back of her neck and steeled herself for the inevitable answer. “You’re still in my custody, I should know where you are.”

“Are we really keeping up that charade?” Mako asked. Korra crossed her arms. “Fine, fine. The princess was upset about her mother, she had some…frustration she wanted to get off her chest.”

“And you wanted to get off,” she said, exasperated.

“In my defense, I made sure she did, too. She felt like slumming it, that doesn’t mean I’m selfish.”

Korra rolled her eyes and waited until a pair of guards passed to speak again. “I thought you’d be more interested in her mother, based on what I’ve heard…don’t you ever get tired of sticking that thing everywhere?”

“Fire. Nation. Crown. Princess,” he said, halting at every word as if she were having trouble hearing. “That’s a _no_ , if you couldn’t tell. Besides, you’re one to talk. You’re dating the Earth Queen, not to mention whatever you had with Asami. I assumed the only reason you didn’t jump on me too was because you don’t bend that way.”

“Yeah, that’s the reason,” Korra muttered, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Look, I don’t need an international incident on my hands in nine months, so just…keep it in your pants, will you?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. But I’ll be a good little monk because you asked so nicely. I need a shower and some sleep, anyway.”

He slipped past her, but Korra grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

“Not the best time to prove you _do_ bend that way, Korra.”

“One of these days I’m going to smack that smirk right off your face…no, I need your help with something. Can you show me how to get a call down to the Southern Water Tribe? I tried the number my parents gave me, but it only goes to some tailor near the harbor.”

“Yeah, come on.”

She followed Mako back down the halls that he could somehow navigate, back to their rooms. He went into his quarters, took the little slip of paper with the number Korra offered, and picked up the phone on his nightstand. “You dialed the exchange for the Southern Water Tribe, right?”

“The what?”

“You dial zero, then five, and then the number here. All right, it’s ringing. Talk to your folks.”

Mako gave her the handset and set his backpack up on his bed to look through it. The ringing cut off abruptly, and a woman’s tired voice answered her. “Hello? Who’s calling?”

“Mom?”

“Korra?” The fatigue melted away in an instant. “Korra, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m okay, Mom. We’re in the Fire Nation, at the palace. I’m going to put a stop to this Red Lotus threat.”

Mako stripped off his shirt to turn it inside out, and Korra gave him a sidelong glance while she bit her lip. _Don’t bend that way…idiot_. “Oh, my sweet baby…hold on, let me wake up your father.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up, I know the time zones don’t work very well down there.”

“Korra?”

“Hi, Daddy,” she said, slumping into the seat beside the nightstand. Mako disappeared into the bathroom to give her some privacy. “I’m glad you got home safe.”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? What’s the matter?”

 _I’m probably going to die trying to stop these people and I’m not even sure I deserve to survive._ “Everything’s okay, Dad. We’re doing what we can to protect the Fire Lord right now. I just wanted to call and talk for a bit.”

The shower in the bathroom surged while Korra spoke, providing a heavily edited recount of everything that had happened since leaving the Southern Water Tribe up until returning to Republic City. She tried to leave out the parts with her getting hurt, which only left rather obvious holes in her story. Still, her parents never pressed her for more details. “You know, after everything that’s happened these past few months, I think I could use a vacation.”

“Of course, honey. Anywhere you want,” Senna said. “And you can bring your—well, Dad told me you were, um, seeing the Earth Queen?”

She couldn’t tell if her mother’s tone was probing or disapproving. There was too much fatigue on both ends to tell. “Yeah, Kuvira and I are together, Mom. I love her,” Korra blurted out, throwing her free hand over her mouth as soon as she did.

“Oh, I…I see.”

“Senna, let it be.” There was some clicking, and her father took the phone. “We just want you to be happy, Korra. Do whatever you need to do, we can’t wait to see you again. You and your friends. We’ll bring them ice dodging with us.”

“Of course we will, Dad,” Korra lied. “I should go. I love you, I love you both so much.”

Her eyes burned with tears as she hung up the phone.


	35. The Firebending Masters

“You did something new yesterday.”

Kuvira stopped tracing her thumb over Korra’s palm. “What’s that?”

“You called me the Avatar,” she said, shifting closer under the sheets. “When you were talking us up to Izumi. I can’t think of another time when you called me that.”

“Well, you are.”

“I know. It was different, that’s all.”

“Because to me,” Kuvira began, shimmying over and closing the distance between them, pressing their bodies together, “Avatar or not, you’re Korra first. That’s what’s important to me, not you bending everything under the sun.”

_I could go and bend platinum, it won’t save me. Why couldn’t I have met you when things were different?_

With a quiet sigh, Korra cupped Kuvira’s face in her hands and planted a light kiss on her lips. They both moved against one another, pushing themselves back on the smooth silk sheets of the bed. Korra groaned. “This thing isn’t made for two people, it’s made for like, six or seven.”

“Six, seven. How about four?” Kuvira asked, a wicked little grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“What…?”

She sat herself up and glanced toward the door. “You’re sure that all hell is going to break loose later today. We might as well have a good morning, right?” Kuvira asked while Korra chewed on her lip. “The last time we did this seemed to go well. I know you still have feelings for Asami and she’s still got it bad for you, and Mako’s not the worst-looking guy by any stretch. Unless you’re not into men? I don’t think I ever asked.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…that’s pretty decadent, you know? Even for you. And we’re not even drunk this time.”

Kuvira shifted her way back over to Korra, laying a hand on her bare hip. “I don’t do things in half-measures, recreation included. And there’s still some sake there…we don’t have to do anything you don’t want, I’m not trying to pressure you. We can keep things between us or just keep cuddling. I thought I’d leave the option open since it sounds like the rest of the day is going to go very badly.”

_Only if you count me dying._

Well, if she was going to die, there were worse ways to spend her morning. And she could see that Kuvira was happily mulling the prospect over in her mind. Korra could give her that, and maybe even enjoy it herself, too. “Certainly wouldn’t improve the princess’s opinion of us. Yeah, why the hell not…I’ll go see what they say, I guess.”

After trying and failing to suppress another grin, Kuvira let Korra roll out of bed, slip on a long blue robe, and peeked out into the hall. No guards in sight, and no one passing by, either. She crept across the floor, and with a little stretching was able to knock on both Mako and Asami’s doors at once, giving them each four sharp raps. They shambled out after a few moments, Asami cinching her robe, Mako leaning against the door frame in his underwear. “Korra? Is everything okay?” Asami asked, rubbing some sleep out of her eyes.

What a loaded question, Korra thought. Mako answered before she could say anything. “No, everything is not okay, because we were sleeping and now we’re not. They can’t be leaving for this thing now.”

“They’re not, this isn’t about that. Look, I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it.” She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart, cursed inwardly when it did no good, and looked between both of them. They seemed curious and tired, but ultimately attentive. “Kuvira and I were talking, and we don’t know how crazy things are going to get later, so we were wondering if you guys wanted to, you know…come over to our room for a while.”

Her face burned while the words hung in the air, and she could pinpoint the exact moment when they realized what she was asking. Asami blushed and put a hand over her mouth, while Mako cocked an eyebrow and straightened up off the door frame. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? And you’re asking _me_?”

“Mako, please don’t be weird about this,” Korra said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Weird? _Weird_? You’re banging on my door at five in the morning before the sun is even up, trying to swing a foursome with me, our ex, and the Earth Queen, and _I’m_ being weird? After months of casual physical abuse, after you give me grief for sleeping with Izula, _now_ you’re trying to get me into your bed? You’ve sailed weird right out of the harbor and into the fucking sunset!”

“You slept with the princess?” Asami asked. Mako grinned.

Korra sighed and crossed her arms. “You’re right. It was stupid of me to ask, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep—”

“Are you kidding? No chance in hell am I passing this up,” he said, cutting her off.

Clearly his other head had taken over, Korra thought with a weak smile. “Asami?”

She rubbed the back of her neck, looking from Korra, to Mako, then to the door across the hall. One of her fingers nervously curled a lock of her hair until the traces of a small, wry grin appeared. “Sleep can wait.”

 _Okay, that was easy…not exactly a hard sell, though._ Korra took their hands and led them back to her room, where Kuvira had put on her own robe and was pouring some sake from a crystal decanter into four small glasses. She took two in each hand, her smirk plain on her face in the low light, and passed them out until only hers remained in her hand. “Good morning,” she said, her voice calm and measured. “Drink?”

Mako belted it back, shivering as he swallowed. “I kind of figured Korra was already drunk if she came to me with this.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” Kuvira said in barely more than a whisper, hooking a finger into the neckline of his undershirt.

Korra hesitated while the others drank, then followed suit, wincing as the liquid burned its way down her throat. They all sat on the side of the bed, focusing intently on the wall in front of them while one of the wall sconces buzzed. “So…” Mako said, running his hand through his hair when he finally broke the awkward silence, “How’d you three jump into this the last time?”

Kuvira set her glass down on the nightstand and swung herself around so that she was in his lap, arms draped over his shoulders. “Like this,” she said, nibbling at his lower lip for a moment while Korra and Asami watched, slightly glassy-eyed. Mako’s shock wore off rather quickly, and his hands grabbed at her thighs until she stopped and rocked her hips a little. “Oh…! That’s why Korra never dumped you back in jail, isn’t it?”

She didn’t have time to defend herself before Asami descended on her, sweeping her up in a deep, desperate kiss as she pushed Korra down onto the bed. Kuvira did the same, shoving Mako onto his back and weaving one hand up with Asami’s. Korra could taste the astringent remains of the sake on Asami’s lips and her tongue, hands drifting greedily over the thin silk robe and up to Asami’s chest, moving in time with the ragged rise and fall of her breathing. She ran her thumb over the fabric covering one stiff nipple, provoking a small, strangled moan that broke Mako and Kuvira out of their reverie.

“Too many clothes,” he said, pawing at the lapels of Kuvira’s robe. Mako worked it off her shoulders while she murmured in agreement and pulled his undershirt away. Korra slid one finger under Asami’s belt and undid her robe in one deft motion, leaving her to shrug out of it as she tossed her own robe across the room. Mako laughed and slid one finger along the trimmed black hair between Kuvira’s legs. “Military precision. Why am I not surprised?”

A pleasant, hazy warmth spread up through Korra’s body, complementing the growing ache between her legs that Asami was stoking with her fingers running all over Korra’s sides. Kuvira rolled her eyes and kissed her way down Mako’s chest, leaving little purple love bites while she worked his underwear off. Korra hissed when she saw him before Kuvira took him in her mouth, botching the whistle she was going for. “Is that why you put up with dating him for so long?” she asked Asami.

“You’re welcome to find out for yourself, Water Tribe,” Mako said, gasping and letting his head fall back onto the bed sheets, idly threading his fingers through Kuvira’s hair. “Hey, teeth!”

Korra paused, trepidation eating at her, and Asami watched them hungrily before turning back to Korra. “Do you mind, or…?”

She shook her head and watched Asami shuffle her way down the bed to Kuvira’s side, alternating between kissing her and lavishing attention on Mako. His hips bucked, and Korra saw him pinch himself to see if he would wake up before his hand fell over hers. “Enjoying the show?”

“Probably not as much as you,” Korra said, easing over to lightly kiss him. It was a far cry from kissing Asami or Kuvira, his lips were thinner and his stubble created an unfamiliar texture, but it wasn’t bad. Different, she decided. His hand went down to the small of her back, holding her securely against him while she flitted her tongue at his. Even though the room was already warm, almost uncomfortably so with all of them moving about, the heat from his body was pleasant and reassuring in a way she couldn’t quite place. A few very weak sparks danced over her skin, running tingles all up and down her spine. “Ah!”

“Relax…”

He swept two fingers across her back, inducing tiny spasms in every muscle he touched. It took some getting used to, but soon Korra had her head on his chest, lazily running a few fingers over her clit and watching Kuvira and Asami work him over. The whole room was thick with desire and the sound of rumpling silk while they moved against one another, until Asami rolled away to catch Korra with another kiss as Kuvira climbed onto Mako again. Korra could taste him on her lips, citrusy and bitter with its own sort of muted appeal.

“Stay down there.”

“We shouldn’t fight about who’s on top,” Mako said, propping himself up on his elbows while Kuvira eased onto him, taking her time until she hit home and her leg kicked against the mattress. Her toes curled, and the hard muscle over her stomach quivered as she suppressed a gasp before she could regain her composure.

“Oh, let’s.”

Asami pulled Korra from them, spooning into her back and cupping one breast while they watched. Every time Mako tried to sit up, Kuvira gave him a quick, playful punch and shoved him back into the pillows around them, keeping up her taunting, languorous rhythm all the while. He tried the same trick as before, running some low-level lightningbending over her abdomen, but all it did was make her pin his hands on either side of his head and kiss him deeply.

“You’ll blow first,” she whispered, biting at his earlobe.

“Think so?”

His arms wrapped around her and flipped them both in place, mussing up her hair and forcing her back to arch when he thrusted once more. Mako kissed at the side of her neck, leaving small purplish splotches while she made her own marks, raking her nails across his back hard enough to leave several bright red lines.

Korra moaned while Asami’s hand sped up, made easier by the dampness coating her thighs from watching Mako take her girlfriend. She rocked into the motion, almost wanting to laugh at the sheer libertinage of it all, and tensed up when Asami slipped a finger into her, then a second. Asami curled her hand slightly, scratching an itch she didn’t know she had, flaring the heat in her core. Her hips moved with a mind of their own, wordless gasps escaping while desire and arousal threatened to burn her up. “Right there, don’t stop, don’t—!”

She was vaguely aware of biting down on the bed sheets before closing her eyes for what felt like an instant. It must have been longer. By the time she came to, Kuvira had been flipped around again, her absent grin half-hidden in some pillows while Mako was behind her, running sparks over her back with one hand and holding her hair back with the other.

“Come on,” she said, almost moaning the words into the pillows, working her hips back into his as fast as she could. “Harder, I’m not made of glass… _ah_!”

Asami was tracing circles along her hip when they saw Kuvira’s whole body shake—no, that was the room shaking, Korra realized. Every bit of metal around them flew out, missing them by some small miracle, and Korra had to wonder how much the palace shifted when Kuvira fell to her side with a look of unqualified bliss on her face.

Mako leaned back, twitching from the sudden lack of stimulation. “Looks like I win,” he said with a grimace.

“That’s a very relative statement…”

“Clearly.”

Korra sat up, about all she could manage, and eased her way over to him while they all looked curiously at her. She ran a hand up along his chest, weaving around Kuvira’s bite marks before winding up at his cheek. “Come here,” she said, fighting her racing heart again. Whether it was the sake, emotional exhaustion, or simple animal desire, she couldn’t say.

Mako raised an eyebrow as she laid back into the pillows, flanked on one side by Asami and Kuvira, running their hands slowly over one another. “Are you sure?”

He moved over to her, but didn’t press further than a hand drifting up her leg. “I trust you. Just…go slow? I’ve never done this.”

“Of course,” he said, dipping down so his lips could follow his hand up along her body, kissing right over the scars on her legs. Korra gasped when he reached her clit, still sensitized from Asami’s efforts, squirming and running her hands through his hair until he moved on. His stubble tickled at her, a not entirely unwelcome sensation, especially when he got to the delicate skin around her collarbone. By then Korra could feel him stiff against her stomach, making the longing ache in her core come back with a vengeance.

Then his lips were on hers, gentle and exploratory, while Asami kissed her neck all over. He wasn’t rough, or condescending, or even dispassionate. His needs seemed to melt into her own, and he was only too happy to work at her speed. It was a stark change from the usual Mako, but then, the thought that she would be in such a position with any Mako would have made her laugh only days ago. She worked a hand between their bodies and wrapped it around his shaft, easing back and forth and getting an appreciative groan in response. “ _Mako_ …”

“Ready?” he asked, rocking his hips so that he moved along with the lines of her abdominal muscles. Korra nodded, letting her legs spread a little wider. “Tell me if anything hurts or if you want me to stop.”

“Why are you being so sweet now?” Korra asked, nuzzling into the crook of his shoulder.

“Must be the sake,” he said in between kisses on her cheek. Mako shifted a bit to prod at her, teasing with light pressure that stopped just short of being enough until Korra whined in protest. “Or maybe, when you’re nice to me, I’m nice to you, and I want you to enjoy this.”

Her eyes widened when he finally pushed into her, and she pounded her fist on the bed as he hit home, filled up so completely she thought she might break. Hot, ecstatic flames lapped at every inch of her body, bringing on a brief feeling of giddy weightlessness. “Everything okay?”

“It feels like you’re going to split me in half,” Korra gasped out, leaving him stock-still. “Fuck!”

“I can stop—”

She bit his lip and clamped her arms around him. “Don’t. You. _Dare_.”

Korra felt her back arching without any input from her as Mako rolled his hips back, leaving her with the sudden desire to grab him and pull him toward her. His arms snaked under her back before pushing in again, providing the same blissful, burning fullness that ached wonderfully through every part of her body. The fear of breaking was still there, she just couldn’t care less if she did. Korra’s breath came in hot, short gasps while she adjusted to having him inside her, made all the more irregular when she looked over and saw Kuvira down between Asami’s legs. _This is so fucked…_

And she was loving it.

“Still think I don’t bend that way?” she asked as one of her hands fell away to run through Asami’s hair.

“No— _ahh_ …no, you’ve convinced me,” Mako said, working them into a much slower rhythm than the one he had with Kuvira. There was no play fighting, no jockeying for position, no freneticism to it. He worked slowly, reading her reactions and moving in concert with her, happy to stay at whatever pace she set. “You’re so beautiful, Korra.”

Light little moans and the smells of sweat and sex filled the air around them. A gust of wind flew around the room and broke one of the door hinges when Asami kicked her leg out, frantically sitting up and pulling Kuvira into her lap, desperate to taste her orgasm on the queen’s lips before they both fell back onto the bed. One of them nipped at her neck, prompting Korra to turn in time to get another kiss from Asami while Kuvira tousled Mako’s hair. “Is he treating you well?” Asami asked, her voice low and shaky.

Korra worked her arm under Asami to wrap them all in a tight hug, rolling her hips so that Mako hit the spot that felt like scratching the most satisfying itch she ever had. Everyone was on her, kissing her, touching her, reveling in the pure pleasure and hedonism of it all without a thought for the world beyond their bed. It was getting hard to tell where she ended and they began in their soft, warm tangle. It was getting hard to focus on _anything_ beyond the rapidly mounting pressure in her abdomen, and the stone floor beneath them shifted as the motion and kisses worked it to a fever pitch. “Mako, I’m— _faster_.”

It was all she could get out in her haze, but he understood well enough. His pace picked up, making the pressure flare and crowd out anything else, and someone’s hand worked skillfully at her clit all the while. She couldn’t tell whose. She didn’t much care. All she cared about were the jolts of pleasure arcing almost painfully through her, the way her head swam when she took Mako up to the hilt—

She screamed, the remaining sake on the far table freezing and shattering its decanter as her orgasm ripped through her body. White light briefly clouded her vision before she could get a hold of herself, and the arch in her back fell out, collapsing along with the rest of her body while she came down. Kuvira drew her hand away and laid her fingers over Korra’s lips so she could taste herself, sweet and salty with a slightly bitter tinge.

“Mako, don’t…not inside,” Korra mumbled.

His face dropped into the pillow beside her head and his motion stilled in an instant while the silk around his tightening fist rumpled. “You really have to tell me these things beforehand…”

A pang of fear struck her. “Are you going to?”

“No, just—don’t move,” he said, his panting breaths warm on Korra’s neck. She lightly kissed his cheek in apology, only to make him groan and shudder. “Not helping!”

He pulled away after a few moments, curling up as if in prostration while Asami rubbed his back and Korra adjusted to the sudden, gnawing lack of fullness in her body. It left another sweet kind of ache in her core, one that she found subsided fairly quickly if she refused to indulge it again. Both of them could only manage quick, uneven breaths for several minutes while they recovered. “Poor thing,” Asami said, leaning down to wrap Mako in a hug.

“Easy, I can’t pump the brakes a third time.” Nonetheless, he sat up and linked his hands around her waist. Asami shifted herself until she was in his lap, making him wince every time she brushed against his shaft.

“So don’t.”

Korra didn’t see Asami work her way onto him before Kuvira eased her into a sitting position, resting Korra’s back against her chest and keeping her in a loose hug. “You made such cute faces with him,” Kuvira whispered in her ear as they watched Mako and Asami. “Having fun?”

She nodded breathlessly, watching Asami dig her nails into Mako’s shoulders. They weren’t fighting to see who got to be on top or working toward their own gratification, Korra saw. It ran much deeper than that. The way Mako’s hands expertly touched along the tiny freckles on Asami’s back, or how she plunged them into a deep kiss that persisted across their slow rhythm…it wasn’t simple lust and self-indulgence for them. They were old lovers falling back into their familiar habits, with memories mixed in among new sensations. A tiny voyeuristic thrill crept through Korra as she and Kuvira watched their lovemaking.

One of her hands drifted back along Kuvira’s leg, finding its way down the taut muscle of her stomach and through the trimmed little patch of hair before settling over her clit, making Kuvira gently bite her shoulder in response. Her own body was still too oversensitized, but Kuvira was more than accommodating, hips shifting back to provide a better angle. She was still awash in her own arousal, making Korra’s small circular motions a simple matter until Asami broke their kiss to look over at them. “Look, we have an audience…are you two just going to sit there and watch?”

The challenge in her tone spurred them both on, shifting over until they were flanking their friends. Korra gently kissed up and down Asami’s throat, Kuvira flitted her tongue over one of Asami’s stiff pink nipples, and Korra quickly lost track of whose hands were where and doing what. At one point they were all wrapped up in a single complex, messy kiss, then another, and then Korra and Kuvira fell back onto the bed, panting and recovering while they enjoyed the rest of the show.

“Asami—”

She didn’t need for him to finish his thought. Her pace quickened, her hips rocking back and forth on his until short, sharp tremors wracked both of them. Mako kissed her hard, sparks flying haphazardly from his body and making the nearest wall sconce blow out from the discharge. Neither of them made any motion to separate for several minutes, instead staying right up against one another in a tight embrace until exhaustion took its toll and made them fall over beside Korra. She worked one arm under both of them and brought the other under Kuvira on her other side to pull them all into a tight cuddle.

“I love you,” she said in barely more than a murmur, unable to articulate any further. “I love you, I love you…”

“We love you too, Korra.”

In her haze, she couldn’t quite tell who responded. It didn’t matter. She knew it was true. Any thoughts that threatened to crop up about the rest of the day and what it meant for her were quickly quashed. It wasn’t the time. “I think the room’s a lost cause,” Kuvira said, looking over her shoulder at the mess they had made. “We should shower, though.”

They were a panting, tangled mess of sweat and come and arousal, hardly presentable for the Fire Lord. Still, Korra shook her head and tightened her grip. Everything outside of their bed meant fighting and destruction and dying. “Soon.”

⁂

“Thank you for joining us.”

Izula didn’t look up from the long table in the middle of her office, covered almost entirely with maps and dossiers that several intelligence officers were scurrying to organize. Along the back wall was another map that highlighted the route to the demonstration grounds and the various roadblocks set up to keep it clear. Korra wondered if there had been a similar corps of people working to keep the Earth Kingdom royal family safe. If there was, they hadn’t arrived a day too soon.

She finally did spare a smirking glance for Mako, who could only meet it with simple serene contentment. “This is why we’re here,” Kuvira said, her crown once again in a simple armband. “Do we have a timetable and a convoy set up?”

“Four cars in the western garage are set to go. The capital police have Machibuse Street closed off for us, that part won’t be a problem. My mother’s airship will also be making a very visible approach over the city, but she’ll be in the third car with you four. Hanako and I will be in the car behind you,” she said, putting small markers on the map in front of her on the table.

“You’re not going with the Fire Lord?” Korra asked.

“I’m the crown princess. We aren’t allowed to travel together. My little sister isn’t a bender, so she needs the protection.” Izula tossed that map out of the way and pulled another toward her, one that showed the topography of the area west of Kasai. “And this is what I’m most concerned about, anyway. The demonstration grounds. A large open amphitheater with lots of crude seating and too many sightlines to cover. It’s here, at the base of the Owari volcano. We have a platinum-lined booth carved out here, but a good portion of the front is still open. More than enough for a combustionbender to take advantage of, or so my grandfather tells me.”

Asami’s fingers traced over the contour lines on the map that indicated a steep rise in elevation immediately west of the arena. “Your capital is right beside an active volcano.”

“And Republic City is built on a fault line,” Izula countered. “We all roll the dice one way or another. I’m not worried around the volcano, the worst it ever does is smoke up a bit. If it were up to me, my mother would make a very nice radio address from the palace about the confluence of holidays, not a public appearance at a place we can’t even hope to secure.”

Under the frustration in her voice, Korra could pick out a great deal of fear contributing to the uneasy calm in the room. “We won’t let anything happen to her,” she said. “I promise.”

“I’ll feel much better when we’re bickering at the dinner table tonight, Korra. But thank you. It’s almost time.”

A very red-faced guard slipped into the room and wordlessly handed a note to Izula. She gave it a quick read, and a vein appeared in her forehead before she burned the paper in her hands. She was awfully fond of doing that, Korra thought. “Your Majesty?”

Kuvira looked up from the section of the map she was studying with Mako. “Yes?”

“I’m going to need the address in Zaofu where your treasury department set up shop.”

“Okay…may I ask why?”

“So I can bill the Earth Kingdom for the damage to your room,” she said dryly, making them all squirm. “And although I would really rather not know exactly what made one of you tilt the entire guest wing by fifteen degrees, we do need it put back.”

When a thoroughly embarrassed Korra and Kuvira had corrected the tilt of the guest wing and donned their armor, they rejoined Mako and Asami in the garage, clad in some nondescript armor of their own from the intelligence service. Izumi hugged both of her daughters, put them in the fourth car in the line, and went to the identical one right in front of it. “Korra. Kuvira. My guest quarters are back in their proper damaged place, I trust?”

For a woman with such a severe resting expression, she enjoyed her fair share of teasing. The blush showed up much more noticeably on Kuvira’s cheeks while they climbed into the back of the car. “In our defense, those scorch marks on the ceiling were already there,” Mako said, opening his mouth before really thinking about what he was saying. Asami buried her face in her hands, Kuvira stared at him in shock, and Korra had to sit on her hands to keep from reaching over and strangling him. “Oh, wait…”

Izumi raised an eyebrow as the car left the garage, bathing them in light through the heavily tinted windows. Mako looked pointedly at the floor of the car, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding Korra’s glare. “Yes. Well. As…interesting as I’m sure it would be to ask after that, what you four do on your own time is your business,” Izumi said, fiddling with one of the arms of her glasses. “Although I do have to ask that you at least try to refrain from damaging anything else. The palace is full of antiques.”

 _Not much fear of that if we never make it back_ , Korra thought glumly. “It won’t happen again,” Kuvira said.

Much as Izula predicted, the ride to the demonstration grounds was uneventful, spent in tense, expectant silence. Police on motorbikes escorted them most of the way, peeling off when they crossed the city limits only to be replaced by two heavily armored trucks that kept pace with them until they reached the covered path that led to their booth.

Korra got her first good look at Princess Hanako while they walked the final stretch of the way, another rail-thin girl with sharp features, black hair in a topknot, and a simple red suit. Apart from being slightly shorter and maybe half Izula’s age, she looked remarkably like her sister, who stayed protectively in front of her while they walked. If they were focused on one another, Korra thought, she could concentrate on Izumi and keep an eye out for combustion blasts.

If she could even see them in the first place…

Tapping her heel on the floor of the booth, Korra could feel the platinum in the walls, floor and ceiling, a thin layer that wouldn’t provide much shielding. For all its resilience to metalbending, platinum was frighteningly brittle and vulnerable to concussive blasts, as P’Li had been only too happy to show her years prior when they believed Korra could still learn combustionbending.

It wasn’t a shield. It was a cage.

Their arrival went largely unnoticed, a quirk of Izula’s planning that Korra was grateful for. Below them on the amphitheater stage, the demonstration had already begun with a pair of firebenders, no doubt enhanced by the volcano nearby. They arced around each other, spinning rings of flame within smaller rings in a dizzying dance. Korra had only a few moments to reflect on the morbidity of such a performance on an Air Nomad holiday before the little hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

_Tck-tck-tck_

“Down!” she screamed, throwing herself over Izumi.

The earth and platinum around them sheared apart like wet paper, raining down in hard, painful chunks. A piece of the ceiling hit Korra in the head as she got to her feet, pulling Izumi up with her arm over Korra’s shoulder. The left wall and most of the ceiling were gone, providing an open sightline into the adjacent stands where the spectators were all scrambling to leave. P’Li was plainly visible, motionless amongst the chaos.

A sliver of platinum had torn across her cheek and she had been knocked unconscious from hitting her head on the floor, but otherwise the Fire Lord seemed unharmed. Korra passed her over to Izula in between barked orders and fits of coughing. “Go, get her out of here,” Korra said before turning to Kuvira and Asami. Both of them seemed fairly shaken up, but still in one piece. “You need to leave, too.”

“We’ll help evacuate them, but we’re not leaving you here.” Kuvira bent away some of the debris obstructing the path back to the road.

“You’re targets!” Korra said, pleading with them. “Please, you can’t fight this woman, I can’t have you getting yourselves killed!”

Mako came running back from carrying Hanako to the cars. “The airship came down, the whole road is blocked. Really need a metalbender right about now.”

Kuvira wavered in place, finally leaning into a quick, fierce kiss. “I’ll be back,” she said, hurrying down to the road.

“You too, Asami. I’m not going to have any more airbenders die.” She bit her lip and settled for a quick hug before going to help with the evacuations. Only Mako was left, quickly cauterizing a cut on his wrist. Korra peeked over the remains of one wall and saw P’Li advancing on them, calmly stepping over the debris left in the panic, braid billowing behind her. “I can’t ask you to help me with this, Mako.”

Some sparks crackled at his fingertips. “I’ve got your back, Water Tribe.”

Korra raised a thick earthen wall from the stands when she heard another _tck-tck-tck_ coming toward them. It rattled terribly, but held together long enough for them to run out the back of the booth. The air sizzled as a bolt of lightning came bearing down on them, scorching through the air until Mako caught it and sent it harmlessly into the sky.

“Stop this!” Korra yelled, ripping up random segments of the stands to trip her up, though it ultimately did no good. Every time Korra threw another obstacle into her path, fire burst from her feet and propelled her effortlessly over or around it, all the while keeping Korra and Mako running to avoid explosions. They got a moment’s reprieve when she twisted the ground under P’Li’s feet, turning her completely around, letting them recover long enough for Mako to throw back some lightning of his own.

One fork of it hit home, striking her elbow and traveling up…before dispersing harmlessly into her body. Mako’s eyes widened for the instant before he had to dive behind some of the ruined seating. Another blast with a severe curve tore through the air, missing him by inches before demolishing the row of seats behind him.

She knew she had only one chance while Mako drew fire for her. Korra rooted herself on what was left of the ground, muttered an apology about damaging more antiques, and snapped her fists shut. The entire amphitheater rumbled, and she knew she was walking a razor’s edge with the volcano so close by. White light flashed in her eyes, and cracks as thick as her arms snaked outward in a crude circle around P’Li, who only realized what was happening as it happened. She threw her arms straight up over her head, white-hot flames pluming from her hands to keep the ground in place.

Mako was little more than a blur out of the corner of Korra’s eye as he rocketed forward, twisting his body around in time to kick P’Li hard in the chest. They both disappeared in the ensuing blaze, leaving Korra free to throw part of the amphitheater stands. Even so, it fell back into place when the inferno crashed and scorched its way down to the stage, saving her the effort.

_Why do you pick now to be a hero…_

Korra pulled in the air around her feet and leapt above the stage, windmilling her arms to keep steady before coming right down on the fire. Another blast of air forced open a small landing point where she fell, and a wave of heat struck her as she hit the ground. Flames licked at her armor until she could snuff them out. She could feel a sharp sting on her neck where an ember landed. By the time she dispelled the fire, Mako had lost his scuffle, feet kicking out uselessly while P’Li, bright red blood streaming from her nose and mouth, held him up by his throat.

“Mako! Light chakra!”

He wound his fist back, but a knee flew into his gut before he could land a hit. Mako struck the ground with fresh scald marks on his neck and went rolling across the stage, propelled by nothing more than the sheer physicality of her toss. Korra drove hard to draw her attention, striking her with all the water she had and turning the ground at her feet to lava. It wasn’t nearly enough. The water sizzled and evaporated, and she simply jumped away to avoid the churning, melted stone.

“She’s not human,” Mako gasped out, coughing up a thick glob of blood as he stood. “She can’t be—”

_Tck-tck-tck_

There was no way for Korra to pull up a barrier fast enough. She could hear herself crying out, even if she didn’t remember doing it. Mako threw his hand out, fingertips erupting with sparks and wide forks of bright blue lightning. It arced out to meet the thin little disturbance in the air, detonating the blast in the space between them. All three of them paused, unsure of what to make of it, until Korra bent a few pebbles and launched them scattershot at P’Li’s head.

She didn’t wait to see if it worked. A few strips of metal sheared away from the pads on her legs, coalescing into three thicker strips as they raced toward the combustionbender. One strip caught and bound her wrists together, the second got her ankles, and the third clamped tight around her forehead, digging in so that it could fuse securely at the back of her head. She reeled back, thrashing in an attempt to get her hands free, but not before Korra could run up and send a flurry of punches into her fire chakra. At least one rib fractured with a sickening _crack_ when she went off-target. P’Li sank to her knees, still trying to get her hands free when Korra took several steps back. Her knuckles were singed, even after nothing more than quick, simple strikes through padded armor.

“What are we doing with her?” Mako asked, gingerly touching the red marks on his neck.

Korra was silent for a moment as she watched P’Li fall still, wisps of smoke appearing from her bloodied nose while she fumed. “Find out where Zaheer is, then kill her. I don’t care what Izumi wants.”

Mako’s brow furrowed up. “Korra?”

“Yeah?”

“How long does the light chakra stay blocked for?”

A bolt of lightning might as well have struck her. They both turned back toward P’Li, who spared Korra one last look before closing her eyes with a calm, resigned expression.

_“NO!”_

All she could hear was a sharp, pervasive ringing. Dust and hot, wet blood covered her in equal measure. Large sections of her armor were simply gone, and what remained was shredded nearly to uselessness from the overpressure. Korra coughed up a mouthful of dirt, earning a quick stab of pain in her chest for her trouble. She rolled onto her back, sat up, and got a good look at what was left of the amphitheater, or what parts of it she could see in the dust cloud that hung in the air. There was nothing but a black mark on the ground where P’Li had been.

Korra pulled off the remains of her armor, leaving her torn-up clothing exposed. “Mako?”

“Here,” came his weak reply. She followed his voice over to where he had landed, almost gagging when she saw him. He was also soaked with blood, and arms were _not_ supposed to bend that way. He must have noticed her grimace. “How bad is it?”

“That needs to be set as soon as can be. It’ll hurt.”

“It hurts now,” he countered, sitting up and looking away while unbuckling his armor. Korra tore off a piece of her shirt for him to bite down on, braced his arm against the side of his thigh, and reached under his leg so she could grab his wrist.

“One, two—”

Tears formed in his eyes as she yanked his forearm back into place. His other hand beat at the ground until Korra held him against her and let him whimper into her shoulder.

“They’re over here!”

Several blasts of air began dispelling the dust cloud around them. Asami and Kuvira ran up, both cringing while Korra helped Mako to his feet. “Korra, you’re _covered_ in blood,” Kuvira said, holding one hand over her mouth. “Both of you.”

She bent it all away. “It’s not ours. What happened with Izumi?”

“We got the road cleared and everyone evacuated,” Asami said. “Izula took her and her sister to the hospital. Might be a concussion at worst. What about P’Li?”

“Tried to take us with her.”

“Korra.”

Her hackles shot straight up, and they all turned to the source of the voice in the next section of the amphitheater stands. “Zaheer,” she said through a snarl.

“You dropped this.”

All she could see was the glint of the knife soaring toward her before being shoved down and out of harm’s way.


	36. Endgame

Mako, to his credit, managed to stay standing for several more seconds before sinking to the ground with Korra’s old knife lodged below his collarbone. Fresh blood began running down his shirt, and though he tried to speak, no words came out when he opened his mouth. Asami darted to the ground to keep him sitting up and keep the wound above his heart while Kuvira pulled Korra back to her feet. Zaheer was gone, she saw.

“Much worse than the arm,” he finally said through pained gasps. His good hand came up to where the blade had lodged in him, but Kuvira pushed it away as her soldier training took over.

“Don’t! It needs to stay in until we can get you to the hospital. Asami, stand back. There should still be ambulances near the road.”

She bent the amphitheater ground into a crude inclined stretcher. Korra wiped a few tears from her eyes. “Why…after I’ve been so awful to you—?”

“I told you.” Mako grimaced as he got his injured arm settled over his stomach. “I’ve got your back, Water Tribe. He started going for the top of the volcano. Don’t lose him.”

Korra nodded. “What are you going to do?” Kuvira asked.

“End this. Once and for all.”

“By yourself? Let us help you!”

_You can’t help me anymore._

She kissed Kuvira, quickly, roughly. “I need to do this now. Alone. If I don’t come back…destroy all the paths up to the summit,” she said, her voice resolute.

“Korra…you’re going to come back, you understand? That’s an order.”

_Sorry, Your Majesty. I don’t believe in queens._

“Go!”

Kuvira bent the stretcher into the air and hurried off with Mako and Asami, leaving Korra alone in the ruins of the amphitheater. She knelt down and ran her fingers over a few drops of his blood, smearing it into her palm while she began to shake. A few cracks in the ground near her split wider, and the dust-choked air kicked into a furious swirl. Bright white flames burst from Korra’s feet before she had even jumped, scorching the earth beneath her while her bounding leap took her to the western edge of the stands. White light threatened in her periphery, but she tamped it down. She was going to end this as herself.

And if she died as herself…at least the cycle would continue.

There was a path leading up the side of the Owari volcano, carved into the stone and winding back on itself several times. Zaheer was nowhere she could see, and so she ignored the path, ripping handholds out of the stone in between bouts propelling herself upward with firebending. Everything ached, one of her ribs felt like it was cracked, and dozens of voices rang through her head. Korra begged them for an hour of silence, but she still felt them there, simmering under the surface. _Whichever one of you is saying I don’t have to kill him, save your breath._

Her fingertips were raw and bloody from climbing when she finally reached the mountaintop. The tie holding her hair in place had fallen out, leaving it matted amongst the sweat around her face. Korra fought through the wave of heat breaking over her and pulled down part of the footpath, making it impassable. No going back, then.

A small tunnel brought her deeper into the interior of the volcano. Little outlines petals burned into the walls told her she was in the right place, and she periodically collapsed the path behind her to destroy any chance of escape. The heat got worse as she continued, as did the low rumble of the magma far beneath them. Every step felt like another foot into hell.

Korra emerged on the edge of the volcano, a large flat area that overlooked a churning pool of lava below. Hasu Redoubt, she remembered from the maps. The air shimmered from the heat, through which she saw no one.

“Zaheer,” she said, her voice raw and ragged. She couldn’t lose him, not now, she couldn’t give him the opportunity to get away again. “Zaheer!”

Her leg gave out when a rush of air hit the back of her knee, forcing her down in time to catch a sudden kick to the nape of the neck. Korra’s cheek scraped against the ground, and she lashed out toward the hand grabbing her shoulder. Fire burst from her swinging fist, but Zaheer leapt back farther than she would have guessed possible.

It _wasn’t_ possible, she realized. Not for a nonbender. “You were there,” Korra said, getting back to her feet while he advanced on her. Some fresh blood trickled down her cheek. “At the air temple.”

“How observant of you.”

She threw her hands up to withstand the brunt of another air blast, but it broke through her guard. Any attempt to rip up the ground at his feet only met with him jumping clear, and she knew fighting at range wasn’t going to work. Getting in close and figuring out how to block the sound chakra was all she could do.

Korra dipped into the Avatar state, more than she would have liked, but she needed the boost. Everything grew more vivid, right down to the miniscule bits of dirt on Zaheer’s tunic. Her pain dulled, and the deep breaths she couldn’t take because of her rib returned. He stopped mid-step, and it was her turn to advance. “You have no one left,” Korra said, her voice booming around the volcano. Lightning crackled from her fists and grounded out near her feet. “All your friends are dead, and now it’s your turn.”

Bright red lines snaked out from beneath her boots. Zaheer sidestepped them easily enough, twisting through the air and giving as good as he got. He met every shard of earth or fire blast with a rush of air, deflecting them or shooting them down entirely. Korra snarled, delving further and further into the Avatar state, throwing larger, fiercer attacks that made the volcano beneath them shudder with instability. It was only when she was completely off the ground, propelled by nothing more than her own airbending, that she realized she had fallen completely into the Avatar state.

She shook her head clear, dropping back down and wincing as all her pain returned. Zaheer saw his chance and took it. A ball of air landed squarely in her gut, knocking the wind out of her and putting her on her back. Korra clawed at her throat, trying to force air down into her lungs while Zaheer took the knife in her boot Asami had given her. He twirled it in his hand, idly testing the balance in full view of her. It wasn’t a threat so much as a taunt, lording himself over her.

“All my friends?” Zaheer asked, kneeling down with his leg over her chest. He ran the flat of the knife over her throat. The cold steel pressed into her skin made her squirm. “I doubt that, unless you’ve been very busy. The roots of the Red Lotus run deeper than you know.”

Korra swung her hand to slap the knife away, but he grabbed her fingers and bent one back until she was screaming in pain, trying to writhe out from under him. “I know all of your friends, though.” The tip of the knife turned in place and pressed into her neck. “I’ll give them your regards.”

Prepared as she was to die, hearing him threaten her friends made something snap inside of Korra. She took hold of the metal in her knife, wrenching it out of his grip and sinking it deep below his collarbone, at the same place he had hit Mako. Blood gushed down onto her face as the knife twisted around in his shoulder, resisting every attempt he made to yank it out. She hardened the loose blood on her skin into a small disc and used it to hammer the knife deeper into him. Zaheer staggered back while the tip of the knife poked through the other side of his tunic.

“You aren’t going to hurt them,” Korra growled, getting herself up with a handspring. Rage piled on and buried all the pain from pushing her body to its absolute limit. “You aren’t going to hurt _anyone_.”

The earth around one of his feet shot up, clamping tight before twisting quickly. His ankle gave out a short, sharp _crack_ , but Korra didn’t wait to hear his gasp of pain. Countless sharpened stones battered him, and though his blasts of air could repel a good number of them, he couldn’t stop them all. Dozens of tiny rips appeared all over his clothes and ran red when the stones burrowed deep into his skin.

“Korra—”

Another stone cracked him across the jaw, leaving a massive splotch swelling all over his face. “I don’t want to hear your begging.”

She took her time cuffing his hands securely behind his back, tightening the stone so much his wrists were ready to break. His legs got the same treatment, damaging his ankle further when he fell over. Korra grabbed him by the neck, giving herself over to the glow in her eyes, and dragged him to the edge of the volcano, where sweltering heat hit her in a long, continuous wave.

Her body was ready to give out, but she didn’t care. Korra bent the knife away, twisting it on its way out of him, intent on paying back some small fraction of the pain he had caused her for twenty years. It clattered nearby while she kept at him, punching and punching and punching, hitting the ground as often as she struck him. Hot, wet tears burned their way down her cheeks, and by the time she stopped screaming Korra realized that she was holding him by his neck over the volcano, staring into cold gray eyes surrounded by the bruised and bloody remains of his face. Her arms trembled from the effort, but she was aware of it more than she actually felt it.

Korra ground her teeth while they looked at one another, the Avatar and the anarchist, him utterly at her mercy. She could have laughed if her throat weren’t so raw. The urge to let go was so strong as to be almost overwhelming, but something kept her hands tight.

“You can’t do it,” Zaheer said, his voice thick with blood and a broken jaw. “Nothing else we taught you sank in, why would a killer instinct? All the power in the world and nothing to do with it. Because you know that once I’m gone, all you’ll find of the Red Lotus will be staring you in the mirror.”

Each breath came heavy and painful while his words rang mockingly in her head.

_The Avatar shouldn’t be a murderer._

_All you are is a failure._

_Do you feel like a hero yet, Avatar?_

_You’re as much a part of the Red Lotus as we are._

“No, no, the Avatar…the Avatar forgives you,” she said, letting the light fade from her eyes so she could look at him as herself. As the little girl he lied to and brutalized and robbed of a childhood.

As Korra.

“But _I don’t_.”

Lightning coursed from her fingertips and into his neck, crackling so hot and for so long that the skin beneath her hands charred and blackened. It fed back into her, running such pain up her arms she thought her bones might splinter, but it was so paltry compared to the rest of the trauma her body and her mind had been through. She broke and shattered along with him, sparks jumping to her fresh tears, until her fire chakra gave out from overexertion.

And then she let go.

She made sure to watch his body hit the lava and disappear beneath the bright, molten rock. It wasn’t the time to take chances. He barely made a hiss over the churning and rumbling. Korra sank to her knees, sobbing and laughing all at once while the pain returned in full force. It could have seared unceasingly through her body, for all she cared. It was over. _Almost_.

⁂

It might have been minutes or hours before they found her. She couldn’t say. All Korra knew was that she felt all her barriers in the tunnel behind her being stripped away by another earthbender.

“Up here,” she heard Kuvira say. Over the rumbling of the volcano there were several sets of rushed footsteps. Korra stayed sitting, facing away from them, looking down at the lava until her eyes hurt. She wiped some of the blood from her face. “Korra? Are you okay?”

She felt like she had gone head to head with a freight train, but that didn’t matter. “Fine. How’s Izumi?”

“Getting an earful from Izula,” Asami said. “Did you, I mean…”

“He’s dead. I saw him hit the lava.” Korra glanced over her shoulder and saw Mako there too, a large bandage hastily patched over his shoulder. All of them were there, then. Korra winced. She hadn’t wanted an audience.

_And then there will only be one member left. You. And they will turn on you, just like you turned on us. Fall on your sword and save them the trouble._

Kuvira breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s a good thing you guessed right about them being here, Korra.”

“I didn’t guess. I knew. I know how they think.” _Because I’m one of them._

“Well…they’re all dead,” Asami said. “It’s over.”

“Almost.” _Please forgive me._

She stood up, clutching at a cracked rib, and took a step toward the edge. Their gazes burned into her back. “Korra?” Kuvira asked. “Korra, what are you doing?”

“Don’t…please don’t make this harder,” she said, choking back more tears. “Just go. Make sure no one ruins the next Avatar.”

Korra closed her eyes, shut out all the myriad voices calling out to her in her mind, and leaned forward, over the edge.

Metal coils shot out and wrapped around her waist, holding her there, trying to draw her back in. She hadn’t wanted them there with her, she knew they wouldn’t understand. Korra broke Kuvira’s grasp on the wires and cut them neatly in two, falling again only to have Mako grab her. A massive plume of fire burst from his free, outstretched hand, pushing them back over solid ground where they fell into a cushion of air. She tried to twist out of his grasp, but she was at her limit. Cutting away the wires had taken the last bit of strength she had.

“You hit your head or something?” Mako asked, still holding her there while he sat them both up. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Let me go,” she pleaded, unable to hold back the tears any longer. They rolled along her cheeks, mixing with the dirt and dust there. “Let me go!”

Asami descended on her other side and Kuvira grabbed her from the front, pinning Korra by sitting in her lap. “Not a chance.”

“You don’t understand…none of you understand…”

“No one ruined you, Korra,” Asami said, her face buried in Korra’s shoulder. “Not any more than the Equalists ruined me or the triads ruined Mako. We changed, and you did, too.”

Kuvira hugged her tighter while sharp, painful sobs started wracking their way through her body. “You’re not one of them. You’ve been around me for months—you came here to save the Fire Lord! There’s nothing of them in you anymore,” she said, lightly running her hand through Korra’s hair. “No Red Lotus, just Korra. We love you, and we’re not going to let you destroy yourself.”

They all closed in around her. For how long, Korra couldn’t say. Eventually she stopped crying and lost the will to struggle against them. There wasn’t a need anymore. She was at her lowest point—fallen, broken Korra, covered in scars and cuts and blood—and they still loved her. Her arms were pinned to her sides, and instead of hugging them she relaxed into the embrace. The last petal of the Red Lotus burned away in her mind. “I love you, too.”

“Everything okay now?” Mako asked.

Korra nodded as best she could. “Yeah,” she said softly. They backed up cautiously, ready to grab her again if they needed to, but she only took Kuvira’s hand and started them all back the way they came. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

⁂

Epilogue

_Ten Years Later…_

 

“Avatar Korra? Or is it Chief Korra? You’re collecting titles too fast for people to keep up.”

She grinned and turned to the source of the voice. A tall, striking woman with a shock of lustrous back hair was standing behind her, adorned in all the saffron and maroon finery of the Air Nation. Pale blue arrows lined her arms, and one broke through her hairline and terminated on her forehead. Her smile was also just as big as Korra’s.

“You’re one to talk, Madame President,” Korra countered, pulling her into a tight hug. Despite being in loose, sleeveless robes at the South Pole, she was remarkably warm. “It’s so good to see you, Asami. It’s been too long.”

“Almost three years now.” Asami made no motion to pull away, instead rubbing slow, rhythmic circles into Korra’s back through her tunic. “Do I have to get another set of tattoos so you’ll visit again?”

“It couldn’t hurt, you know I love the ink,” Korra said, tapping lightly on the blue line that ran along the back of her neck. They finally did separate, after one last strong squeeze. “Where’d Hiroshi get to?”

Asami glanced around, looking by her feet and then in her immediate vicinity. “I don’t know, he was right—Hiroshi, get down from there!”

The boy who was trying to get a handhold on an ice sculpture nearby hung his head and jumped down, cushioning his fall with a pocket of swirling air before running over to them, weaving around seats and tables the whole way.

“I told you not to climb on anything,” Asami said while he bumped into her leg.

“Sorry, Mom. Hi, Aunt Korra.”

She knelt down and wrapped him in a brief hug. “Hey, kiddo, haven’t seen you in a while. You’re getting pretty tall, how old are you now? Twenty, twenty-five?”

“Ten!” he said proudly, holding up all his fingers.

“Wow…you know, even I couldn’t airbend when I was ten,” Korra told him in a hushed, conspiratorial tone. “So, in a way, it’s like you’re better than the Avatar.”

His bright amber eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Korra, you’ll give him a swelled head. Why don’t you go get Dad, honey?” Asami asked, patting him on the back. “Tell him I found the Avatar.”

“I think he’s with Kanuq and Naoki,” he said, running off. Asami turned back to Korra, who shuddered.

“What is it?”

“Kanuq’s _creepy_ ,” Korra said. “I don’t care if he is my cousin or the crown prince or whatever, he’s sixteen and he’s already weirder than Eska. Why can’t he be fun like your and Jinora’s kids?”

Asami shrugged. “They didn’t grow up in an ice palace.” She fixed one of the fastenings on her robe, and her expression rose slightly. “So how’s your dad enjoying retirement?”

“He’s loving it, why wouldn’t he?” Korra rolled her eyes. “He stuck me with the hard job. I can’t wait until they swear in the new chief next month, let him deal with the legislature…plus we have leads on a few more Red Lotus cells that I don’t want to go cold.”

“Really? How’d you get those?”

“I still have some friends in the intelligence service.”

They both turned to the woman in the dark green gown who had come along without their noticing. Kuvira planted a light kiss on Korra’s cheek before wrapping Asami in a hug. “Congratulations on your reelection, Asami.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

She leaned back and shook her head. “Oh, I abdicated, you know that. All those titles start to wear on you after a while. It’s just Kuvira again.”

“Su hasn’t gotten you to take the Prime Minister job back yet?” Asami asked.

“Not for lack of trying. She calls every week, ‘just to check up.’ Not one conversation goes by without her very nicely suggesting I run in the next election. But I’m happy being a private citizen again, and I’ll be even happier when we move back to Zaofu.”

Korra nudged her arm. “What, you don’t like it here? It’s beautiful!”

“I like having more than one season. I’m strange like that.”

“There are still Red Lotus cells?” Asami asked. Kuvira’s expression fell, and she quickly glanced around before answering.

“Some. They’re damn persistent. It’s not as bad as it was eight years ago, but lots of people weren’t happy when we started pushing for more democracy. They don’t coordinate with each other, and they aren’t full of freakishly powerful benders, but it’s like trying to weed a garden the size of the whole world. We might never be finished.”

“Finished with what?”

Mako was doing his best to walk over to them, trying to keep Hiroshi from climbing up his side with one arm while holding a young girl in the other as she shied away from the company. He was giving the beard another valiant try, Korra saw. A tall Water Tribe boy with an immensely disinterested look followed behind him and gave Korra a small wave. “Aunt Korra. Happy birthday,” he said in his usual flat tone.

“Thanks, Kanuq.”

“Ow—hey! I said you could climb Dad Mountain later.” Mako managed to get Hiroshi by the collar and passed him off to his brother. Kanuq minded much less when Hiroshi started trying to scale him, too, staying motionless beside their father. “And we lost Jinora, damn it.”

“No, I’m here! And don’t swear around Naoki!”

Her gait was somewhat impeded by her obviously pregnant frame, but she caught up after a moment. Korra noted with some petty disappointment that even Jinora was taller than her now and shook her head. “Mako, there’s a wonderful new invention called the condom, have you heard of it?”

“Oh, can it, Water Tribe.” Mako set Naoki down so he could put an arm around Jinora, as much for support as intimacy. “It’s not like I’m the only one to blame here.”

“Yes, you are. You did this to me again,” Jinora said, squeezing his arm until he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “Naoki, show everybody what you can do.”

She looked nervously up at her mother, then at Korra, Kuvira and Asami. Korra knelt down and gave her a wide, beaming smile. “It’s okay, honey.”

Naoki screwed up her face in concentration, brought her small hands in a quick circle in front of her, and blew Korra’s hair back with a huge rush of air. Korra blinked a few times, her eyes watering, while Naoki jumped excitedly up and down. Kuvira smiled and tousled the girl’s hair. “Nice shot. I wish I could do that sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah, wait till we’re alone…that’s really great, Naoki,” Korra said, slowly fixing her hair as she stood up. She beamed while Mako swept her up in his arms and rubbed their noses together, much to her delight. “Mako, I’m curious, how long has it been since you’ve had a full night’s sleep?”

He shrugged and winced as Hiroshi jumped from Kanuq’s shoulders to his. “You know, I’d tell you, but the sleep deprivation makes it hard to remember things.”

“You love it,” Jinora said, leaning on his side. His younger children nuzzled into him, and even Kanuq gave him a stiff, awkward hug.

A tiny smile tugged at the sides of his mouth. “Yeah.”

One of Korra’s staffers appeared at her side and handed her a small slip of paper. She looked it over, pursed her lips and torched it right then and there. “What’s the matter?” Asami asked.

“More Red Lotus in my backyard,” she said, tying her hair back. “Having us all here at once must’ve been too tempting. Kuvira and I will be right back, can you cover for us?”

Mako looked askance at her. “This is _your_ birthday party, how are we supposed to explain you not being here? And do you really think we’d let you two have all the fun with the party crashers?”

He handed Naoki off to her mother and wrangled Hiroshi from the side of his head. “Jinora, do you mind?” Asami asked.

“It’s all right,” she said, balancing one kid in each arm. “You four go save the day, I don’t think I could do much more than be pregnant at them. Just be careful, honey. Come on kids, let’s…go find somewhere to sit down.”

She and Kanuq went off toward the tables while Kuvira reformed her elaborate metal necklace into a pair of gauntlets. Mako loosened the top button of his jacket, and they started for the door. “You’re going to fight in those gowns?” he asked, nodding to their dresses. “Good luck.”

“I’m the Avatar,” Korra said, leading the way. A small grin tugged at her lips. _Just like old times._ “We don’t need luck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Did you enjoy _No Gods, No Masters_? You may also enjoy my other stories:
> 
> [Kyoshi: Swan Song](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5248682) \- Avatar Kyoshi's recounting of her life to Korra. (In Progress!)  
> [Prompt Madness](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5181146) \- All the drabble prompts I get on [my tumblr](http://fell-dragon-domain.tumblr.com/) in one simple document.  
> [Izumi Week 2016](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6553468) \- Prompts for the best Fire Lord ever.  
> [Burn It Out](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6463846) \- A oneshot gift for [HenryMercury](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HenryMercury) about Korra meeting a different old lady in Book 4.


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